Tonight, She Comes
by Alejandro Gonzalez
Summary: Years ago, a great hero disappeared. Now, his daughter will emerge to fulfill her father's original purpose of saving lives and rescuing the innocent.
1. Chapter 1

Tonight, She Comes  
By Alejandro Gonzalez

 **Prologue**

The car skidded to a halt. The narrow, one-way street stood blocked by a dumpster. Alan Barnes sped the car up to the dumpster, and hammered the gas pedal. The tires whirred and screamed as smoke billowed into the air. The receptacle would not budge. In the passenger seat, his daughter Emma began to hyperventilate. A van barricaded the other end of the alley. Asians of various age poured out; their insignia indicated membership in the ABB.

Emma clutched the phone to her chest as her labored breaths came more ragged and shallow. Her father shifted his gaze back and forth. "Oh god, no," she uttered, "this isn't supposed…"

On the other end of the phone, Taylor heard danger. The car running nowhere and making horrible screeching noises. Most importantly, though, Emma panicking. "Emma! Where are you?"

Emma's trembling gaze shifted from her father to the phone. "T-Taylor? I'm…I'm…"

Taylor grit her teeth. She would have to reveal her secret. "Emma!" she shouted. "Where are you!"

Taylor's sudden shout caught Emma's attention and snapped her, momentarily, to awareness. "T-The one-way street off of Fourth, and…" she began. Then, the line went silent.

Taylor had hung up.

Quickly, she fumbled the phone for nine-one-one. Her fingers wouldn't work. She jittered the phone back into place and went for it again.

Her passenger side window burst open. An attacker grabbed a handful of hair and her shoulder, and pulled. The belt held her firmly, and pain shot through her like a scalpel's cut. Another pair of hands grabbed her arms and pulled. The belt latch came free as the force of her assailants overcame and she came out the window, her jacket and jeans ripping on the remnants of the window. She saw the side of the building up ahead and her father screaming in sheer terror as multiple attackers converged with knives drawn.

"Turn over, ginger bitch," one female assailant said, kicking her in the ribs and flipping her over to see the sky overhead. Multiple figures crowded around, analyzing her worth and studying her fear closely. A distant sound of thunder erupted all around. If she hadn't been so afraid, she might have wondered why there were no storm clouds around.

"Who the hell are…" one attacker, out of Emma's sight shouted, right before being abruptly cut off and sent flying into the dumpster. This drew everyone's attention.

"Alright, little girl, fuck off already!" a young man with a metal bat shouted.

"No," A very familiar voice cried out. "How about you fuck off?"

Emma couldn't believe her ears. " _Taylor!_ " What was the wet blanket doing here? The girl she spoke to on the phone moments earlier was as boring as can be. Now, she stood firm, with one possibly brain-damaged thug out of commission, apparently at her doing.

"Alright, fuck this," An older goon said, drawing a pistol from his jacket. He squeezed off a single shot. It disappeared into the hoodie and shirt Taylor wore, leaving a single hole. She nonchalantly walked straight ahead. He stared quizzically at the gun for a moment, then fired again. This time, her fist rose up and caught the slug, and it fell to the ground. A single bound forward allowed the girl to impact the thug with an open palm to the chest that sent him into the dumpster so hard it moved. He crumpled to the floor and was not getting up again. What happened next resembled a macabre cartoon rather than a fight. Someone would try to stab Taylor or hit her with a blunt object, and the girl would launch them into a wall or send them face first into the gravel. After the carnage, she took a breath and stood over Emma.

"Taylor…what…" Emma managed to say.

"Later," Taylor replied, holding out a hand. Emma took it and stumbled back to the car.

Both Emma and her father stared as the young girl effortlessly moved the dumpster out of the way, its wheel-less side making a scraping noise on the pavement. She sat in the back seat of the car and fastened a seat belt.

The Barnes's stared at her.

"Can the car still drive?" Taylor said. "Let's go."

Alan snapped out of it, scanning the bodies, and drove off.

After several uncomfortable minutes, Emma said, "You killed those men."

Taylor let out a ragged breath, wiping her eyes. "I know," she replied. "I'm not ok with it, but I did what had to be done."

"S-So, you're a cape?" Alan said.

"It _was_ a secret," Taylor admitted. "But I wasn't going to let you die."

* * *

 **Chapter One**

"Taylor!" Danny Hebert cried out. "How was school?"

"Fine," she said, clearing her throat. "Emma's doing better since she took that self-defense class." She set her bag on the couch and headed towards the kitchen. "What's for dinner tonight?"

"Spaghetti madness," her father replied.

Her face lit up. "Alright! Now we're talking." She reached for a plate, but he shot her a look. "What?"

"Wash your hands," he admonished.

She rolled her eyes. "Yeah, sure," she said, turning to the sink and using the dish soap. "Anyway, I love your cooking, dad, but that rice pilaf you made yesterday wasn't going to get you the Iron Chef."

He half-laughed during a glare. "I'll be sure to let the judges know," he said.

Her plate she filled with a heaping helping of noodles and several large meatballs. "So, any luck down at the docks?"

Danny tried to avoid sighing. "The union's doing the best they can," he explained. "Honestly, I think the industry's mostly gone and we're just going to have to deal with it. I've gotten _some_ of the guys their jobs back."

"Nobody ships to this part of the coast anymore," she answered. Her fork speared a meatball and shoveled it into her mouth. "Mmm," she chewed faster as he glared at her for trying to speak. "Now that, is a good meatball."

Her father set his fork down, and she would have let out a sigh if he hadn't been looking straight at her. "Honey," he began. She set her fork down and looked him straight in the eye. "We really need to discuss this hero thing."

"Dad," Taylor protested, "I'm being careful."

Danny straightened his expression. "I know," he answered. "But what I'm saying is, you don't know if you're going to meet your…other."

This time, her exasperation escaped. "You can just say it," she said. "We're always made in pairs, and if I meet my other half, I lose my powers and become…normal."

"We've discussed this," Danny continued. "It isn't just that. Your mother died because she thought she could live her life in peace. When she trusted you to me, I honestly wondered if I could handle it, knowing that you might be in danger."

"Maybe I'm the last of my kind," Taylor protested.

"I wish I could honestly believe that," her father countered. "If that was the case, you'd live forever, and nothing would ever threaten you. But I know how these things work. Your mother loved me, but her other half was drawn to her. They happened to be together just long enough for her to get killed."

"I've heard this story," Taylor argued. "You guys hadn't even figured out what was going to happen before they both died."

Danny reached across the table and put his hands on her shoulders. "Taylor," he said. His eyes were wet. "I don't want to lose you. You can move buildings and stop freight trains but to me, I'm always worried something's going to happen to you."

"Dad," she said, holding his hands firm. "I love you, and I'm not going anywhere. This world needs me, and I'm not going to hide from another half I don't even know of." She smiled. "Mom was one of the greatest things this world ever had and I have to live up to her."

Danny wiped his eyes. "Yeah, that's definitely true," he said. "I can't stop you from trying to help, but please, be careful. I've seen how you like to play with the bad guys sometimes. I wish you wouldn't do that."

Taylor picked up her fork. "If they're mad," she explained, "they're focused on _me_ , and that gives civilians an advantage."

Danny shrugged. "Wow," he admitted. "guess I can't argue with that."

She finished her spaghetti madness and retreated to the couch to do her homework. Her father plopped down next to her and set the television to low while she scribbled away at math and science homework with record speed. He looked at her furiously writing away and let out a whistle. "Slow down, kiddo," he advised. "You don't have to rush it. Besides, don't you have to check it?"

"I'm only graded on effort," she said. "I'll check it when I get home."

A lump caught in his throat as he heard those last words. "I see," he uttered. "You taking the hoodie?"

"I love the grey hoodie," she said. "And the beanie with the eagle on it? Amazing what you'll find in the dumpster."

"If you happen to 'find' any more clothes," he instructed, "please put them in the washer immediately."

She giggled a bit. "Sure."

Twenty minutes later, she'd finished her daily assignment and retreated to her room. Her stylish shirt, a gift from her mother, she slid off, and gingerly hung on the dress hanger. She pulled off her corduroy pants for school and put them on the headboard of her bed. The dress shoes she kicked off into the back by her chest of drawers. Her outfit for street activity—the same she always wore—consisted of old sneakers, jean shorts, a black undershirt, and a grey hoodie, all acquired from a dumpster outside an abandoned clothing store. Each of them were replaceable and that way, she didn't put any of her mother's clothes at risk. She took off her mother's glasses and put them in her desk drawer.

Exiting her bedroom window and descending to the ground with a plop, she began walking casually towards the docks. The boardwalk, lined with expensive shops and the familiar sight of vehicles costing more than her dad would make in a year, eventually trailed off. Walking west, the lights weren't always on, and if you paid close attention, all kinds of people congregated in the setting sun that folks who frequented the boardwalk shops would call undesirables could be seen.

Pimps who avoided the territory of one of the major gangs saw her and avoided her. Honestly, her underdeveloped teenage body wasn't quite worth their time. The abandoned warehouses that lined the streets and decrepit apartment buildings full of squatters and drug addicts had few lights on, and the smell of alcohol and urine mingled with the faint scent of blood. She took another sniff. Gunpowder registered itself to her nose. _That didn't take long_ , she thought.

The sound of voices, a foreign language, made its way to her ears. She ascended to the roof of a building halfway down an alley from the sounds. Squinting, she saw the glow of a lighter. A crowd of gang members of various ages—some she recognized from her school—and various Asian ethnicities, gathered around a large man. She leaned in and looked closer. A man in an ornate mask, possibly steel, completely shirtless and adorned in tattoos of Chinese mythology, spoke in aggressive dialog with his group. She clenched her teeth. _Dammit_ , she thought.

 _Lung_.

She stepped back a bit. "Doesn't matter that they're children," she heard him say in English. "You see one lying on the ground? You shoot the bitch twice, just to make sure. Understand?" Her fist clenched. Any apprehension she felt faded fast. "Now, let's get this fucking operation underway…"

A bang of concrete shattering caught his attention. The entire gang turned at once to see, emerging from the shadow of an alleyway, intermittently lit by failing streetlamps, a teenage girl in a ragged hoodie and a beanie with an eagle on the front. Her shoes had tears here and there and her underdeveloped figure correlated with her soft facial features to indicate an age of no more than fifteen. She seemed to step forward with confidence and a look of disapproval. A guy near the front pulled his gun. "Take a step closer, fucker!" he shouted.

"Careful," Taylor said, her eyes darting from one nearby building to another and back again. "You might accidentally kill one of these poor bastards who's just trying to sleep off a heroin high."

"Who the fuck are you?" Another shouted.

Her mother's prior name came to mind.

"Hancock."

Laughter echoed. Only Lung strode forward, serious. "I've heard of you," his booming voice resounded. "You're the one who collapsed the Empire Eighty-Eight headquarters.

Taylor smirked. "I thought that one was funny," she admitted. "I suppose I can't ask you to walk away."

This time Lung let out a single sound of laughter. "You can't think you're strong enough to beat me, stupid cunt," he said.

She blinked several times and grit her teeth a moment. "You know," she said, tightening and releasing her fists, "I'm not too fond of that word."

One gang member strode forward, emboldened by his boss. "Oh, you've got sensitive ears?" he goaded. "Cunt!"

Taylor's expression darkened as she turned to face him and back to Lung. "Keep this up," she warned, "and his head is going up your ass."

Lung let out a roar. "Ah! Found a nerve!" he shouted. "The cunt thinks she's going to do something special!"

Taylor's eyes closed for a long few moments and opened slowly. "Call me a cunt…" Breathing exercises escaped her nose. "One more time."

Lung grinned beneath his mask. "Cu…"

Later, a gang member would emerge from a coma and say the last thing he saw was the girl move so fast she simply went poof, and there was, for a moment, a hole in the air where she was, and the next thing he knew the doctors were telling him he was out for two months.

Taylor shot forward and crashed into Lung with the kinetic energy of a shot fired from a railgun. The shockwave caused the group of about twenty closest to their boss to turn into a wave of bodies crashing against a concrete shore. The rest either stayed behind or ran. Lung felt two ribs break and his spine nearly bent like a V, as she launched high above the water with him in tow. She drew her fist and smashed his mask with a single punch, dislocating his jaw in the process. His skin began to turn as the color changed and flame erupted near his skin.

A guttural roar escaped his mouth as he slugged a fire-coated fist into her face. His bone structure altered as his body became more beast-like in response to her fighting him. Claws that adorned his longer fingers scraped at her torso, ripping fabric aside, but not marring the skin. She delivered a headbutt that shattered teeth and shot him into the water. She impacted the water and wrapped both hands around his neck. His newly-formed wings beat against the surf and he clawed at her eyes and punched at her throat, but she held firm. He beat his head against hers and she pushed him further down. Fire turned water to steam and she struggled against his claws and teeth. The shoreline thrashed as violent waves crashed over barricades and battered vehicles parked too close.

 _Fuck, this guy will not go down!_ Taylor thought as she kicked and punched, against the weight of the water and the persistence of Lung. He emitted several long, loud utterances against the gurgling of water, scraping, clawing and biting against his foe as she battered him like few had before. Not since fighting an Endbringer had he experienced such a struggle. The constant transforming of his internal structure to suit the combat, could not seem to keep up with the water rushing into his lungs.

Her hands wrapped around his neck and she pushed ever downward, smashing against the floor of the bay, kicking up silt and irritating her eyes. Unlike him, however, she did not need to breathe, and the water more annoyed her eyes than hurt them. She would persist, and as time progressed, his clawing and biting became less and less intense as time passed, and he blasted her with fire, more water flashing to steam, and she headbutted him a few times. Finally, his jaw went slack and his eyes glazed over. From there, a short jaunt took them to the surface.

She deposited the body of Lung onto the pavement. A few seconds passed, and he began coughing up water. Before he could become too full of life, a dart hit him in the neck and he went limp again. The sound of a motorcycle not far away piqued her attention. She noticed Lung's capture and the properly suited hero stepping up to her. "Hey, you're one of those Protectorate guys, right?" Taylor said.

"Armsmaster," he stated, flatly, his halberd at his side. "And you're…?"

"Hancock," Taylor replied, restating her mother's old name.

Armsmaster's head moved a bit, telling her of his thought process. "Huh," he thought out loud. "In any case, I appreciate your defeat of Lung, that'll help the PRT and the crime rate enormously."

She nodded. "Your welcome."

"I would have appreciated it more, if you hadn't left so many broken bodies," he admonished. "I don't believe there are any fatalities, but a lot of these gang members can't be arrested until they receive major medical attention."

"Ah, well," she shrugged. "He pushed my button."

"I'd recommend joining the Wards." He unraveled a section of cable from his belt and began tying Lung's arms and legs together. A series of lights blinked on his visor, leading Taylor to believe the other Capes had been signaled to come. "From what we saw of your fight—couldn't see under the water, obviously—it seems you rely on your brute force to win a fight. There's very little in the way of finesse."

The harsh criticism bit into Taylor even deeper because she found she could not deny it. Despite her brave face, she felt two inches tall. "Yeah…well, I'll consider it," she stammered. A piece of advice from her father came to mind. Thank the ones who tell you what's wrong. "I appreciate the tip."

"Is there anything else you need to report?"

Taylor had heard voices and footsteps nearby when she hoisted Lung from the water but chose to ignore it. "No," she said, shaking her head.

"I'm glad I have your support," he admitted, attaching Lung to his motorcycle. "To fight someone like this guy, and only come out with wrecked clothes, you're a hell of an asset. I owe you one."

"What does that mean?" she said, as he drove out of earshot. She knew, though, even as the words escaped her mouth. He would be taking credit for the victory. It rubbed her the wrong way. Still, for a member of the PRT to owe her one, that could be a big deal. She looked down. Wrecked clothes had been a proper diagnosis indeed. Her shoes had come physically apart when she took off towards her foe. One foot stood bare, while half a ripped, wet sock hung to another. Huge holes dotted her undershirt, shorts, and the fringes of each hole bore clear scorch marks. Everything was soaked. Except her gray hoodie, which she had somehow flown out of. She flew towards the more abandoned areas outside the shopping district and found a familiar dumpster outside what once was a clothing store. Fishing inside revealed several dark gray shirts, one almost black. She pulled the wreckage of her shirt off and draped the new gun metal gray shirt over her torso. It had another pair of the same jeans as she had before, and she replaced those as well.

She found her gray hoodie just lying on the ground, covered in concrete dust but otherwise only a bit worse for wear. Draping it over herself, she prepared to take off, when she heard footsteps behind her. The sight of the young team behind her gave her a moment's pause. These were likely villains of some sort, she just had a feeling of it, and they didn't seem primed for a fight. It occurred to her that these were the "kids" that Lung and the ABB were going to kill.

"You don't fight like a member of the Wards or the PRT," a dark figure at the front said, his voice a deep resonant bass.

"That's because she's not," A blonde in a domino mask said. Her smile soon faded into a puzzled and stern look. "Huh, I'm not getting anything much."

This caused one of them, wearing what looked like Renaissance clothing, to jerk his head over in shock. "What?" He then regarded Taylor with a great deal more curiosity.

"Name's Hancock," Taylor said. "I just kicked Lung's ass. He said a word I don't appreciate. Who are you guys?"

"We're the Undersiders," the man with the deep voice said. "and regardless of what you do, I wanted to thank you. We're alive because of you and thank you."

"I'm Regent," the renaissance-dressed youth said, "and this is Tattletale," he pointed to the blonde, "and Grue," he pointed to the dark, tall man, "and Bitch is somewhere over there." Behind them stood a younger woman with a rough, stout face and an angry dog mask hanging from her neck. Behind her were a trio of dogs.

"By the way," Tattletale said, "Hancock was your mother's name, right?"

"Y…yeah," Taylor said, her voice becoming suspicious. "From a prior relationship, how did…?" Tattletale pointed twice to her temple. "Ah, I get it." A thought came to her. "Wait, Undersiders? I've heard of you." She tilted her head, thinking. "A _little_ of you."

Grue asked the obvious question. "So, what's going to happen now? Are you going to fight us?"

Taylor shrugged. "And ruin the clothes I _just found_?" she asked. "No thank you."

She took off, leaving them stewing in the implications of a hyper-powerful being having ignored the fact that they were villains. Tattletale turned to Grue and voiced the obvious. "She was at least an Alexandria package," she told him, "and she left us alone."

"This is the luckiest night ever," Regent commented.

* * *

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 **Topic: Lung gets his ass kicked?**

 **In: Boards ►News ► Events ► America ► Brockton Bay**

 **VideoSkunky** (Original Poster)(Veteran Member)

Posted on April 12th, 2011:

Alright, I think half the city of Brockton Bay heard that fucking explosion in the ghettos outside the shopping district. Well, I was probably the closest (my house is like five minutes away), and I saw what had to be the strangest sight ever. Lung and his goons getting gathered up by the PRT and about twenty-five ambulances.

Somebody fucked up the ABB big time. Had to be thirty people hospitalized at least. Man, did they call in the big guns or what? Anybody got any intel?

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member) (Cape son)

My dad was one of the officers tending to the wounded. Guys were all over the place, some had broken half the bones in their body, it looked to him like someone had dropped a bomb in the middle of a crowd. Nobody was missing limbs, but there was blood everywhere. Apparently they don't think anyone is going to die, although no thanks to the Cape for that. He said Armsmaster was pissed off at someone, but didn't want to say it to the Cape's face.

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

Anyone else got a name? I'd love to know who could scare or piss off a high-ranking dude like Armsmaster like that.

 **DancingBabii** (Veteran Member) (Confirmed PRT)

All I can say is that they're talking about someone named "Hancock." Couldn't get anyone to tell me more than that.

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Ok, that's something. I don't have much data on "Hancock." Apparently, the only references I can find are that there was a guy named "Hancock" who fought in Los Angeles for a few months until he was forced to stop being a cape for causing a lot of collateral damage when he did stuff. Then he and his wife died. This was about fourteen years ago.

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

Soooo…both he and his wife died, and now they fought Lung? Fascinating story. :P

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

I can PM you the newspaper articles from when they died if you don't believe me. There's no report about whether or not they had a child, but if they did, maybe their kid took their name and is fighting crime. Is it really that unbelievable?

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

I was a kid in LA in the 90s (God, I'm old ). I remember Hancock, he was a black guy, wore a gray hoodie and he drank a lot. Like, a lot. Then he went to prison for awhile (this was before the birdcage existed) because he was a pretty awful cape. I mean, he was good at fighting crime, but I think that was just because he was so rough around the edges he scared the shit out of everyone. He'd wreck shit when he saved lives. It stopped when he married his wife and retired.

 **EastOfBurden** (New Member) (Confirmed Cape)

We got camera video! It's grainy, but it's on Youtube, and here it is! [Click Here to view link]

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

Christ, look at that! Gray hoodie, jean shorts and cheap shoes! Same look! But, wait, the person looks…I hate to sound racist…white?

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)[Edited]

Awesome! I'm going to see what I can get out of this.

*Edit: I found a guy who works on cellphone videos and he managed to enhance the video. Don't tell me this CSI shit isn't possible, take a gander at this! [Click Here to view link]

 **WilliamFatner** (New Member)

0_o I thought it was just a short guy, but, holy shit, it looks like a girl! And she's only about my daughter's age!

 **GirlzWithGuitarz** (New Member) (Cape daughter)

I've seen her around town a few times! She goes to Winslow High! I don't know her name, but if you put glasses on her, she'd be her!

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)

Now we just have to get a name to go with the face. I want to know who this person is.

 **VideoSkunky** (Original Poster)(Veteran Member)

Considering how much power she showed (I mean, FUCK), everyone's going to want to put a name to go with the face. Shit. Fucked up the ABB, wasn't wearing a mask. Either this person doesn't worry about the safety of their family and themselves, or they're just so sure of themselves. Either way, shit.

 **(End of Page) (1)**

* * *

Armsmaster sat at the meeting table, feeling relieved to have several feet of mahogany between himself and Director Piggot. Miss Militia had taken a red-eye to be here, and the three of them looked at the images shown on the screen in the front of the room. Dragon came in a moment later. This young girl, worn-out clothes and all, standing unharmed in a crowd of bodies strewn in every which direction, talking to Colin. His video feed had proven pivotal in locating the identity.

"So," Piggot began, "Dragon says this person has been positively identified?"

"Since she's not wearing a mask," Dragon explained, "facial recognition was a trivial matter."

"I'd comment on how arrogant that is," Miss Militia quipped, "but honestly, with power like that, I don't think it's necessary."

"The grainy cellphone video is not the best resolution, and it's jittery," Dragon went on, "but I corrected it as best I could, and I saw this." She played the video and drew attention to one segment. "The audio was too saturated to be able to do much with, so we really don't know what she said to Lung, but watch this." After Lung said _something,_ the girl and Lung suddenly disappeared from the picture, and the instant they did, bodies were thrown in every which direction.

"What the fuck?" Armsmaster said, leaning forward. "I hadn't seen that part."

"Christ," Miss Militia exclaimed.

"Considering this video is about thirty frames per second," Dragon went on, "and we know she at least the distance between herself and Lung, and the force of the shockwave by how the bodies were thrown, we can give a low estimate of her speed at four to five hundred miles per hour."

"So what you're saying," Armsmaster replied, "is that it's largely by luck that nobody was killed?"

Dragon nodded. "That's likely the case."

"What mainly bothers me about this," Piggot interjected, "isn't that she is powerful enough to defeat Lung, which, I assure you, _does_ bother me, but rather, that she shows little regard for her surroundings."

"She fights with no finesse," Miss Militia examined, "relying on strength and brute force to win fights."

"That was a clusterfuck of a clean-up," Armsmaster added. "So, if she's truly 'Hancock,' she's certainly living up to her father's namesake."

"We can't confirm positively that she is, in fact, the child of the man known as John Hancock," Dragon explained. "So far, she's demonstrated the classic Alexandria package. Hancock was known to be considered a public nuisance in the greater Los Angeles area until he stopped drinking. So far, she hasn't demonstrated his ability to affect the weather."

Piggot shot forward in her chair. "Wait," she countered. "When did he demonstrate that?"

"An accidental skirmish with a female member of his kind," Dragon clarified. "They're both dead now, and they only fought once, to my knowledge. Records don't even show if she was the one he married."

"Hold on," Armsmaster said. "You're losing me. How is this possible?"

"Neither of their powers behaved like traditional capes," Dragon said. "Honestly, we don't know why or how. They had a weakness unique to however they got their powers. In each other's presence, they slowly became vulnerable."

"We're getting off-track," Piggot said, waving her arms. "Forget that for a moment. It'll be safer if we just assume she operates under the same principles, and that she might demonstrate powers unique to what we've seen. Anyway, give me the name."

Dragon nodded. "Yes ma'am," she said. With a gesture, on screen, appeared the public records of one Taylor Hebert. "Taylor Anne Hebert is the daughter of Danny and Annette Hebert. Mother is deceased, father is alive, works for the Dockworkers' Association. Goes to Winslow High School. We believe she became active six to eight months ago."

Miss Militia did the math. "Six to eight months ago?" she asked. "Do you think she was the one who demolished the old Empire Eighty-Eight headquarters?"

"Very likely," Dragon stated. "So far, based on what we can tell, power characteristics include flight at _a minimum of_ sub-sonic speeds, possibly supersonic speeds. Strength that surpasses that of Lung, seeing as she was able to hold him underwater, and also lifting building rubble off herself. Durability that includes resistance to drowning, the building impact, and fire resistance. Armsmaster, did you see any wounds on her?"

Armsmaster shook his head. "No," he said. "I mean, I can't imagine Lung not using his claws and pyrokinesis on her."

"In any case," Piggot said, "we have to push the Wards hard. We can't have this kind of bullshit recklessness in our city!"

"I agree," Armsmaster replied. "Based on my experience, she throws herself into battle relying on her powers to protect her."

"By the way, just a word of advice," Piggot said to him, "don't shoot your mouth off about how mad you are at someone. You know there are people who work here that post on those damned message boards."

He bowed his head. "Sorry. I'll keep my anger in check."

"So, what should we do next?" Miss Militia asked.

Piggot thought about it. "Let's see what she does next," she advised. "We need to get a better idea of what she's capable of. Dragon, you need to get me stats."

"Will do, ma'am," Dragon said.

"Alright," Piggot said. "That's all. Observe, report. We have to know what we're dealing with." The other two agreed and went their separate ways.

* * *

Taylor returned home and strode through the door, plopping down on the couch and kicking her shoes off. _Ah shit_ , she thought. _I lost the fucking beanie_. She stretched and leaned back. Danny came in from the kitchen. He reached to her right and clicked the remote. The evening news came on, showing the grainy phone video of Lung getting beaten up. "Looks like you made quite an impact," he said.

She shrugged. "I know it isn't the most careful thing to do," she said, "but he was going to kill kids, and I wasn't about to let that happen." She rested her hands behind her head.

"Also, I got a call from someone from the PRT suggesting you join the Wards," he admitted.

She turned around. "I told Armsmaster I would consider it," she told him. "If he calls again, let him know I'm not convinced."

Danny almost choked. "Armsmaster!" he almost shouted. "You met _Armsmaster_ and you only told him you'd consider it?"

She shrugged. "Hey, I thanked him," she said.

"Hey, maybe the Wards would be good for you," he argued.

She shrugged. "Maybe," she agreed. "I haven't given it enough thought yet."

"No problem." He ruffled her hair. "I trust you. I just want you to be safe."

"I love you, dad," she said, grabbing her shoes and heading up to her room.

"I love you, kiddo," he said. He recalled the day he'd met her and her mother.

* * *

The day had been an everyday at the docks for a much younger Daniel Hebert.

Danny hated buying dinner from the grocery store.

As he looked up and down the frozen foods section, his pay from the docks in his pocket, he attempted to heed his doctor's advice to eat out less often. Still, there were two kinds of pre-made meals he liked from the microwave—and they were both sold out. Opening the freezer, he extracted a lasagna meal and a fried chicken meal. He passed the Salisbury steak immediately. It would not even be considered.

"Shit," he muttered under his breath. Neither looked too appetizing, and he wasn't much of a cook. He didn't want to cook spaghetti again. He didn't want to feel like he was still in community college.

"Need some help?"

Danny looked up to see a woman and a very small child standing next to him. He regarded them with bewilderment. Something about her struck him. Words failed to form in his mind to describe it. She didn't seem…normal. Somehow, she seemed imposing to him, just by being there. Her beauty wasn't in your face, and yet, she struck him as the most beautiful he'd ever seen. "Uh," he managed.

"Need some help?"

He shook the stupor out of his head with her repeated statement. "Uh, yes," he said. "I'm a terrible cook, and they're out of both things I like. Any suggestions?"

This woman blinked a few times. "Well, I've never really eaten TV dinners before," she admitted, "so, I can't say I know anything about what tastes good."

He coughed awkwardly. "Oh, wow," he uttered, surprised. "Thank you, though." Something popped into his mind. "You're not from around here, are you? I haven't seen you before."

His question caught her off-guard. "Oh, uh, no," she said. "I just got here."

"Daniel Hebert," he said, sticking out his hand.

She shook his hand. "Annette Hancock."

He realized his own awkwardness. "Nice to meet you," he said. "Your daughter is pretty, and so are you." He blinked a long moment; the cheesiness of his statement occurred to him even as the words left his mouth.

A laugh escaped. "Really? Why thank you," Annette said.

"I won't keep you from your dinner date," he said, turning to leave.

She turned slightly and paused. "Wait," she said. He turned, incredulity painted on his face. She put on a radiant smile. "Why don't you have dinner with us?"

He almost went bug-eyed at her forwardness. "Really?" His voice very nearly cracked from his disbelief. "You're not worried about…"

She cut him off. "Oh, no," she admonished. "I'm not worried." _You being a threat is hilarious_ , she thought. Trying to imagine him as a legitimate threat to a woman gave her a silent laugh. Honestly, he looked like someone brought a teddy bear to life in the form of an awkward bachelor.

"If you'll have me for dinner," he said. His words caused him to imagine a macabre horror movie scene. He chuckled.

She chuckled. "No, but I'll have you as a _guest_ for dinner," she said, having apparently figured out what he thought.

Danny knelt next to the young girl. "What's your name?"

"Taylor," the girl half-squeaked. She held up five fingers. "I'm three."

"I bet you're the sweetest," he said, brushing her nose with the tip of his finger.

"Mommy gets mad when I break things," Taylor said.

"Well, try not to break anything your mommy doesn't want broken," Danny said.

Taylor pondered this world-shattering philosophy. "Uh-huh."

Danny followed them. "Oh, I can't thank you enough. I'm such a terrible cook."

She lightly smacked his shoulder. "Don't discourage yourself before you even start," she advised.

"I'll try," he said, chuckling a bit.

* * *

 _We were married eleven months later_ , he remembered, placing the photo back on the mantle.

The sweet memory brought to mind the horror of the day he lost her. It had started when her ex-husband showed up to help her fight an Endbringer.

"No," he said, slapping himself. Now was not the time. He would not go down this road _tonight_. He went upstairs and creaked the door open just a bit. Taylor had sprawled out on her bed, asleep face down on the bed. She hadn't even taken her clothes off. He turned her onto her back as gently as he could. "Night, kiddo," he whispered, shutting the door.

He swallowed some melatonin, crawled into bed, downed it with some water, and went to sleep. That night, he dreamed of her. She appeared to him and the dream seemed like a warning, but he wouldn't remember it in the morning.


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter Two**

Taylor woke six minutes before her alarm clock. With an hour and a half to go before she had to go to class, she threw her running clothes on and her latest pair of shoes. The abandoned storefronts on the worse part of town had fed her running habit for the past week. These looked like they might hold up for the entire run. She headed downstairs and pulled a protein bar out of the fridge. Her dad would be up in about a half hour, and that gave her twenty, maybe twenty-five good minutes of running. From her front door to the street, and then down to the streetlight a block farther down, she kept her run to a humanly possible twenty miles per hour. At the end of the houses, the path opened up, with greater distance between buildings. The morning sun wasn't quite up yet, so the streets sat largely empty. _Finally_ , she thought. _I can unwind._

The first footfall beyond the neighborhood almost cracked the pavement. A gust of wind shot behind her in an arc as she took off at a hundred miles per hour. Her feet began hitting the ground at shorter and shorter intervals, shooting her forward like a pistol's crack. The world blurred around her at first, but by her next step, her brain compensated, and the scenery returned. _Car!_ She jaunted to the right and zoomed past as her wake shook the car she'd have otherwise obliterated. Trees and other obstacles she avoided with skillful footwork. If she wasn't careful, she would become a cruise missile.

She came to a stop as the cityscape disappeared entirely. She focused her eyes and saw a few miles ahead was the state line. Quick mental math said she'd travelled at least seventy-six or seventy-seven miles. She stretched her arms and legs and walked over to a road sign with a huge patch of bushes near it. All around the roads for miles were grassy fields in between thick patches of forest. She checked her stopwatch: only fourteen minutes had passed since she started. That meant she'd clocked in at three hundred and thirty miles per hour, and she hadn't even gotten the burning feeling.

A quick search of the bush revealed her professional grade speed gun had not been discovered. It had been a hell of a discovery, when she first found it in an abandoned building, and getting a tech guy to fix it no questions asked had been a boon. She kept mental notes of her powers as she progressed. She set the camera near the sign and checked the battery. Still charged from last time. _After this, I'll take it home and charge it,_ she thought. She set the speed gun to memory mode, cleared some of the results, and ran the opposite direction down the straight stretch of highway until she counted twenty separate mile markers from the sign. She cleared the stopwatch and got into a runner's position. Her shoes had visible loose sewing and the tread on the bottom had worn off quite a bit.

 _Now_ , she thought. _How fast am I this time?_

She closed her eyes. The sound of the wind and distant birds, the occasional rumble of thunder farther north, she pushed these out of her mind. All of her focus centered on the core of her body. Every tissue down to the smallest organelle in each cell pulsed with a fire she struggled to be able to even describe to herself. Her body felt on fire. This familiar feeling had come to be known as the bringer of power. She could not hold back the proverbial water once it crested the dam. Even though no physical burning took place, her insides seemed to heat like a furious torch. After a long second, the hair on her arms stood up. It felt as though she would come apart.

With a thunderous blow, her first footstep obliterated the shoe into a fine dust. The hard concrete of the road shoulder exploded into a spray. A shockwave leveled trees in a circle around her. Her second footstep annihilated her other shoe and her foot hit the concrete, leaving quite a hole. Wind battered her at supersonic speeds, and her tight running clothes were saved only by being nearly skintight. The sign came upon her and she lifted off the ground and used her flight to stop herself just after it. She touched down softly and clicked the stopwatch off.

 _Between thirty-nine and forty seconds,_ she noticed. She did the mental math as best she could. _Okay, let's say forty seconds just to make the math easier. I ran twenty miles in forty seconds, that means…_

She gasped. It meant she had ran about one thousand, eight hundred miles per hour.

She sat on a fallen tree off the road. _Holy crap_ , she thought. Just a week earlier, she hadn't been able to break the speed of sound on foot! Also, despite her finding this…feeling of hers, the jittery…thing, she didn't understand it or how it related to her abilities, other than the fact that she found greater levels after using it. She would have to do some kind of soul searching, although what that entailed managed to elude her.

As she surveyed the damage done to the concrete, she noticed the cracks left on the other side, from her last few attempts, hadn't been half the destruction caused here. She would have to find a new stretch of highway to use. On the way back, she took to the sky to avoid damaging the pavement further. The front door creaked open just as Danny had entered the bathroom. "Hey, kiddo," he said. "How's the run?" He stifled a yawn mid-sentence.

"Good," she said. "I'm getting faster on my feet."

"That's good to hear," he said.

In her room, the clothes went in the wash bin and were replaced by a spare towel from the dresser drawer. After he'd left the bathroom to make breakfast, the shower ran nice and hot, and she washed the evening before and the morning off her. Sleeping in her clothes had been a mistake; the murky water of the bay left a residue that had to be scrubbed extra hard. Still, it had been worth it, as the sound of the TV in the living room indicated Lung had a first-class ticket to the Birdcage. After her body had come clean of the nastiness of the bay, a quick towel dry and a careful combing had her prepared for the morning. School would suck, but hey, what could one do about that. Dressing wasn't hard considering she didn't have the widest range of outfits.

"I'm making omelets," Danny explained, mixing mushrooms and peppers into the skillet with some taco meat and various other ingredients.

"Been awhile since you did that," she noticed. "Any special occasion?"

He shrugged. "Not really," he explained. "Although, I hope that little excursion of yours against Lung inspires some business to return to the docks."

"I'm convinced you'll pull something off." She downed a glass of orange juice and then another.

He scooped the enormous roll of egg and various ingredients onto her plate, and she tipped some salsa from the refrigerator across its length. It tasted hot and delicious. Her mother's glasses sat on her face, and Danny was the first to notice the loose screws had been repaired. He wouldn't ask about it.

"Breakfast was amazing," she exclaimed. "See you later."

She hoisted her backpack on. "See you later, honey," he replied. It never ceased to amaze him; his daughter had to be one of the most powerful beings on Earth, and yet, her vulnerability had nothing to do with her physical acumen.

Taylor didn't want to deal with the school bus. She followed a side road and took off at a reasonable hundred miles per hour. The back alleys and side roads allowed her to largely stay away from people and her pace kept her shoes from coming apart. It meant the journey to school didn't involve sitting on a bus for an irritatingly long time, while girls gave her shit for her lack of fashion sense. After arriving at Winslow after just a few minutes, her afternoon books went in the locker and she soon ran into Emma preparing for morning class.

"Hey, Taylor!" Emma said, jogging up. "I saw you kick Lung's ass on the evening news."

"It was more a case of, he said the wrong thing," Taylor replied, "and I let him know it."

Emma leaned in. "Who're you going against tonight," she whispered.

Taylor regarded the secrecy with curious amusement. "Probably the Empire," she mused. "I think they didn't take the hint last time."

"They _take_ all sorts of things," Emma joked, "hints are not one of them."

Taylor laughed. "Yeah, you're right. I think a personal visit is in order."

"Aren't you worried about your dad?"

A finger pushed the glasses up a bit. "Yeah," she admitted. "But I figure if someone goes after him, they won't live to regret it." Her face tensed up. "I mean it." Then she went easy again. "Hey, enough rough talk. Let's get this shit over with."

"See you in Mister Gladly's class!" Emma said.

Taylor turned away before rolling her eyes. _Don't remind me_ , she thought. She walked into Mrs. Knott's computer class.

"Alright, class," Mrs. Knott said, "Your assignment for today is to locate legitimate sources as if you were writing a research paper. Go to the class website and follow the instructions." She passed by Taylor's station. "If you are listed as an advanced student, you'll follow the separate assignment listed below it."

Taylor navigated to the class site and downloaded the Word document with the instructions listed. Inside the assignment document, there were instructions on how to program a rudimentary date calculation program. If done correctly, it would allow someone to input a number of days and the current date and get a future date. Also, they would be able to input a date and the program would tell if it was a leap year. She quietly got to work.

Nineteen minutes later, she had a working program and she put it in a zip file and emailed it to her teacher. Upon getting the thumbs-up, she turned to Parahumans Online. She read the biographies listed for Armsmaster, the detailed descriptions of the Protectorate and the Wards, and of the hero to whom she'd likely be most directly compared: Alexandria. It amazed her how frank they were with the abilities she possessed. It had video footage of her delivering truly crushing blows to the likes of Behemoth, and an animated gif made from footage of her flying through a series of huge concrete structures to get to a target.

After that, she looked up the Undersiders. A few of them didn't have information at all listed. Grue had a minor list of events, such as working as protection for small-time criminals, and a few high-profile local crimes. Bitch, or Hellhound, or Rachel Lindt, as the bio indicated only her real name and more kid-friendly code name, had a long list. It held a tragic tale of foster homes, anti-social violence and destruction. Still, she'd seen these types of things before.

Finally, moving on to the ABB, she saw the history of Lung, and his lesser officers, like Oni Lee and Bakuda. A news listing indicated that membership in the organization had decreased and activity had fallen off slightly, after a hero known only as "Hancock" defeated their leader and injured a group of foot soldiers. She smirked. A list of crimes confirmed to be linked to ABB activity gave her a motivation of new targets to go after. She closed Parahumans Online shortly before the bell rang.

The next stop was Mr. Gladly's class. This class irritated her to no end. She sat down in a desk near the front of the class near the door. Some of the girls giggled at her simple outfit and disaffected attitude. Still, she paid them no attention, and true to form, they lost interest after a while. The assignment, a brief essay of the ways that the appearance of capes changed things in society. Having the advantage of being one gave her a unique perspective.

"Alright, class," Mr. Gladly said, "I'm assigning a group project." Taylor rolled her eyes.

 _Let me guess_ , she said, standing up and examining the room after everyone shuffled around. The sight she wanted least greeted her. _Christ. Greg and Sparky. What a duo_. She slinked over and sat down next to them as she had several times before. The Keith Moon wannabe Sparky, which, thankfully, _was_ a nickname, struck her as a product of the late nineteen-sixties having been born a few decades too late. He wore long hair and was a drummer in a band. He also seemed high all the time despite not smelling of drugs. Greg, however, had promise. That promise was, unfortunately, that he would annoy the crap out of you with crap that wasn't relevant. At least, that's what her experience was. She rested her head using her hand as a platform. She pulled out her contribution and set it on the desk.

"Hey, Taylor," Greg said, "did you play Space Opera?"

"No," she admitted, shaking her head and resting it again. "Honestly, I'm still playing old SNES games on my PC."

"Wow, that's retro…"

She got him off. "Greg, I hate to be a bitch," she advised, "but you're not going to pass if we don't focus."

The admonishment struck him like a slap. "I'm…sorry…" he stammered. "You're right."

"You can talk to me all about it on PHO," Taylor compromised, " _after_ we get the crucial in-class assignment done."

"Really?" He seemed to come back to life. "Here, I'll write down my username."

She held out her notebook. "Fantastic," she said, attempting to downplay the sarcasm in her voice. "Now, help me out here."

"Can I be in Madison's group?" Some girl asked Mr. Gladly. After giving it a moment's thought, Taylor remembered her name was Julia or something like that.

"That wouldn't be fair," Mr. Gladly replied. "Greg's group only has three people. Help them."

The next few minutes were an exercise in frustration. The attractive-ish girls sat next to them, which got Greg all hot and bothered, which forced Taylor to repeatedly focus him with more and more direct, and embarrassing efforts. Sparky was no help whatsoever. What finally broke the camel's back, however, was when Greg handed her list over to Madison Clements. "Give it back," Taylor said.

Taylor stood up and walked over.

She stood over the desk. "Now."

"Nobody is talking to you, Taylor," Madison cooed.

Taylor cocked her head slightly to the left. "Give. Me. My. Work. Back."

"Prove it!" Madison commanded.

Taylor reached across and grabbed the open ends of Madison's jacket and hoisted her to a standing position, pulling the desk up a bit with her until it fell back into place. The move and noise were so sudden they caused the room to go dead silent. She looked on, wide-eyed, as the glasses nobody reached down and extracted the paper from her hand.

"Ms. Hebert, is this going to be an issue?" Mr. Gladly said, over the din of student silence.

"No," Taylor said, placing her work back on her group desk. "I forgot to practice de-escalation."

Everyone watched as Taylor returned to her desk and sat down. She let out a relieved huff and returned the work to her group.

"What the hell just happened?" Greg asked.

"Sorry, I made a scene," Taylor said.

"Whoa," Sparky chimed in. "Are you strong as shit or what?"

"Go back to being One Toke Over The Line, sweet Jesus," she said, referring to the song by Brewer & Shipley. Sparky somehow found this reference hilarious.

Taylor was too focused on simply getting away from this pointless crap to focus much more on the group project. After all, she considered, she certainly had done more than her share of work. Ninety percent of the list was hers. After another ten or so minutes, the groups were called up to give their lists. The first few groups to present gave the easy targets. Taylor decided to try something different.

"Ms. Hebert," Mr. Gladly said, "is your group ready?"

"I'm ready to pres…"

Taylor cut off Greg. "I'm ready to present," she said.

The teacher looked at the two of them oddly, then shrugged lightly. "Okay, Taylor, go ahead."

She stood in front of the class. "Capes have changed the world in a lot of ways," she began. "Fifty years ago, nobody would have considered spandex and armor plating fashion. Shipping patterns have to be changed because of Leviathan. Economic crashes are caused by Behemoth. We have cape celebrities. Law enforcement had a new dimension to focus on. Both good and bad things came out of it. But honestly? That's not what I really wanted to talk about."

Taylor set the list down. "I've been up close with capes," she continued. "I've been near conflict zones in Brockton Bay. I was a few blocks away when Hancock fought Lung. When she hit him, it sounded like a lightning strike ten feet away. Almost thirty people were put in the hospital. Nine of them may not ever be the same again. Some are _still_ in comas."

Mr. Gladly took a breath. "That's…a good point…" He gathered his thoughts. "Are you saying…?"

She didn't let him finish. "There's bad people who aren't going to be back on the street anytime soon. The news is saying the destruction is going to ruin the local economy. But what about the young girls captured and enslaved into prostitution because of men like Lung? Is it really excessive force if he can fight an Endbringer?"

"So," Mr. Gladly said, "what exactly are you getting at?"

"Bad guys are bigger and badder," she said, "and good guys are harder to kill. But it isn't that simple! There's a lot of room in the middle! We have to contend with everything black and white and gray." She slapped her paper on the lectern. "We have much more to worry about. Capes made society…more and bigger. We haven't had enough time to figure out exactly how much. There's more and bigger violence, more and bigger heroics and villainy, and more and bigger confusion. Everything else can be boiled down to that." She pointed at various members of the class. "Any of you, forty years ago, would have been worried you could die in a nuclear attack, or at the hands of a mugger. Both situations had controls in place. The toughest dude on Earth could die to a bullet." She coughed. "Now any Joe Blow can show up on the street and kill you and it may not be known how to stop them. We're in a world without much control." She nodded. "That's all. That's what capes gave the world."

Mr. Gladly blinked several times in shock. "W…wow," he said, "that is…a very true and…important notion."

Taylor sat down. "What the hell was that?" Greg asked her.

"I just had to get it off my chest," she admitted.

"Honestly, I thought it was great!" Greg exclaimed.

A few other groups gave their presentations, and Taylor tried not to fall asleep. The class would be over soon enough and she could go another day without dealing with this pointless class. She put up with several more minutes of Greg and Sparky's various annoyances and the irritation of other groups mostly reciting the same crap as each other, and the bell came like a choir of angels. The students filed out the door and she got up and adjusted the pack on her back.

Emma appeared. "Taylor, are you ok?" she said. "You seem kind of mad."

Taylor's mood brightened. "Yeah, I'm ok," she said. "I'm kind of a hothead, and Madison annoyed me. My dad's been trying to help me, but occasionally, I just lose it a bit."

"I'm just glad you're such a huge help," Emma admitted. "I've asked your help a lot but I'm taking self-defense now."

"My temper doesn't bother you?" Taylor inquired.

Emma almost laughed. "Nah," she said. "You smashed the rapists. That's good enough for me."

"That's a great band name," Taylor joked. "The Rapist Smasher."

School's annoyances continued for another few hours. Emma and Taylor hung out at lunch time, but honestly, Taylor looked forward to being free of the daily drudgery. She flew out of the city after school and set her stuff down in a section of the woods upstate where there happened to be a large circular field surrounded by thick woods on all sides. It didn't guarantee she wouldn't be found, but it also meant that she had a chance of being alone. Emma's words, combined with her blow-up at the relatively innocuous incident with Madison, gave her a sense that her father was right.

"Taylor," her father had said, "I just want you to realize you're angry too often."

As she sat down in the field, she took a deep breath and let it out. "Alright," she thought out loud. She sat down on the ground and closed her eyes. _If this eastern mumbo-jumbo bullshit has any use whatsoever_ , she thought, _it has to work now._

She focused her mind. She'd been taught meditation as part of a therapy session meant to ease the pain of her mother's passing. To her, it represented a bunch of nonsense she didn't believe in, but it had calmed her down somewhat, so she figured, what the hell. The focus went to the thing her dad said held her back the most: her anger.

A familiar scene popped into her mind. The funeral wake. They hadn't even had a body to display. A small group of people attended, nobody who knew them intimately, and Taylor sat in the corner crying and feeling hurt that, even at her mother's death, they couldn't talk to anyone here about the true heroism of Annette. The fury bubbled up. As she sat, her mind focused, her body erupted in an internal fire. This was the all-consuming feeling, the spiritual heat.

Irritants fed the flames. There were idiots like Madison and Sophia, who made their remarks and spoke their lies. They had to constantly had to be kept at bay with intimidation and threats of force. The fire burned hotter, invisibly within. There was the Protectorate, who never seemed to make anything better for long. They managed to continually accomplish nothing against the worst targets. She wanted nothing to do with them, they were an icon of ineffectiveness and inefficiency.

But the worst insult, to her, was Scion. The so-called hero. He possessed the most power. Yet he fought with disinterested passivity against the ones who had leveled countries. Parts of Japan and Europe were gone. The Endbringers destroyed everything in their path. Unstoppable juggernauts of power, and yet, the mightiest of them all would not do anything except push them back. Frustrate them until they gave up. She saw in him the worst of the worst. One could boil all the sins down to the one: a lack of empathy.

"Mommy? Am I going to be a hero one day?"

Taylor almost lost focus. Her train of thought changed tracks when a conversation she'd had with her mother entered her field of focus.

* * *

A five-year old Taylor Hebert would soon be starting kindergarten. Annette Hebert had started her new job as a professor of English at the local university, and the three were home together after school almost every day. Annette went out and did her hero work on occasion, and everything, for the time, was good.

"Mommy?" Taylor asked. "Am I going to be a hero one day?"

"Sure!" Annette replied. "You're going to be someone amazing."

"What do you do when you're out there?"

Annette pondered the child's serious question. "Well," she explained, "you have to be careful. But you also have to know when to be forceful. They're not going to make it easy on you. Being a hero means you always know exactly how much threat and how much nurture you use."

"So, you watch after everyone?"

Annette leaned over and smiled. "I watch over as many as I can," she told her. "I can't watch over everyone. No one can."

"I wanna watch over people like you do!" Taylor beamed.

"Not so fast, honey," her mother warned. "It's a hard world out there. It's not as easy as you make it sound."

Taylor pondered this. "But you always make it look easy."

"That's because I have a whole lot of experience," she replied. "You're just a child. You haven't had time to really _live_ yet. I've been alive since ancient times."

Taylor went wide-eyed. "You musta gone through a lot of pairs of glasses," she said.

Annette faltered a minute, then burst out laughing. Danny joined in after she explained to him what their daughter had said. The person in question was the only one confused. "Oh, I'm sorry, dear," Annette apologized, "but eye glasses weren't really around back then."

"Your mother wears them because she wants to," Danny said.

"Why?"

The eternal question, posed by children in response to any piece of information, had just hit Annette. "When I started teaching, I noticed people respected me more when I had glasses on."

Taylor pondered this, too. "Can I wear glasses?"

Danny piped up. "Well, honey, kids are different than adults," he said. "Kids use anything they can to make fun of you."

"Tell you what," Annette replied. "You wait until you start school, and then we'll talk about it. Ok?"

"Okay!" Taylor beamed. "And then I can be a hero like mommy!"

* * *

Her emotional storm abated somewhat. Taylor's breathing returned to steady from erratic. Happiness came flooding back into her mind. It was a memory she had almost forgot. To her, it was the little things: the times they would talk about anything and nothing. It was the times they would simply be a family together. She could never lose the wonderful times they had together, and that, in a way, gave her determination and hope.

It also gave her a strange new feeling. The savage flame that lit up her inner self gave way, ever so slightly, to an electric surge. A jitter came to her inner self. The turmoil flowed back and forth, with the fire, fueled by anger, threatening to burn her spirit away, and the electricity, powered by joy and wonder, pushed back, and she felt better for the first time in ages. After another minute, she opened her eyes, and let out a breath. Her entire inner self felt charged and ready, and lighter for the first time in ages.

She looked at her hands, back and front. She almost expected to see literal fire and lightning coursing on her flesh. Still, the spectral versions in her spirit made an impression. Her power felt more alive than it had in years. The air felt more welcoming to her, the beats of her heart more filled with desire. Her anger hadn't disappeared. In some sense, she knew she would be battling her rage. She'd struggle against the hate she felt at the world for taking her mother from her, from the people who could care more and the golden hero who could do more, but for now, she had won a battle. She couldn't replace people like her father, Danny, who had done so much to care for her, and like Emma, who hadn't left her. She looked up. The overcast sky had let a peek of sunlight through. It gave her a desire to run.

She took off. One foot pumping after another. Something seemed different, but it didn't matter. The wind passed by, as she dodged left and right in time to avoid obstacles. She arrived in front of her house. _Wait_ , she realized, _that didn't take long enough_. Her stopwatch told the unmistakable evidence. With the distance in her mind, she did the math.

"Holy…crap…"

The stopwatch clattered to the pavement in front of her house. Her shoes didn't seem that much worse for wear, upon inspection. Her jacket missed a zipper on one of the pockets, and her glasses hung a bit crooked. Her shorts hadn't taken a hit. _Why wasn't there a sonic boom?_ She blinked, remembered the stopwatch, and returned to the front of the house. She looked at the watch again and did the math once more to make sure she hadn't made a mistake.

 _Nine hundred ninety-two miles per hour_ , she determined. Her mind raced. Earlier attempts had shredded shoes. Chunks of pavement had been blasted into dust. Before she figured out to wear skin tight clothing, she'd annihilated pairs of shorts and left jackets vaporized. A quick examination of her glasses showed them unblemished. She smacked herself for the danger she'd put them in. _Why the hell didn't I take them off? Christ, I'm an impulsive idiot sometimes!_

As she put her glasses back on, she felt the strange electric feeling pass into them, somehow. She took them off, and it disappeared. _Am I losing my mind?_ She thought. _It's not even a physical thing I can see with my eyes_. And yet, she stopped paying attention to the air and the temperature, and she found the same sense of 'charge' in her clothing. It dissipated the farther away from her flesh she felt, but she couldn't deny it was there. _Was it my anger?_ It seemed clear, once she thought about it, that it was a representation of her powers, but why now? What changed?

She proposed a hypothesis. _It must be my emotions_ , she thought. Previously, she'd been a mess of anger and outward aggression. It struck her as hilarious that when she felt like breaking something, her power would cooperate in breaking things. _I feel like I have something to defend, and my power protects my clothing and keeps my speed from shattering things willy-nilly with sonic booms_. As her mind pondered, a giggle escaped.

Then she burst into full laughter. It struck her as such an absurd detail.

Danny opened the door. "What's funny, kiddo?"

She wiped her left eye and put her glasses back on. "Oh, nothing," she lied. "I just discovered if I calm down, I don't break things."

Danny gave an odd look to nothing in particular. "Wow, I could've told you that years ago," he quipped.

She playfully bopped him. "Seriously, though," she said. "I was meditating, and I felt this…" The words took their sweet time. "…this tug of war."

They sat at the dinner table. "Go on," he said, curious.

"I kinda…" she said, breathing in and out, "did what the therapist told me to do. I meditated. My anger. Like you guys said?"

"She thought you might be acting aggressive at school as an outlet," Danny replied.

"I am," she admitted. "I finally figured that out. No, what happened here was, I got all that rage right there at the surface." Her fists clenched. "All that I was pissed off at. And then," her fists unclenched, "I thought of mom." She looked at her father. "Nothing really that extraordinary, just a random conversation where I brought up the glasses."

Danny leaned back in his chair and folded his arms. "Which one was that?" He asked, more to himself than her. He racked his brain.

"I told her 'you must've gone through a lot of glasses,'" she said, trying to jog his memory.

Danny moved forward as it hit him. "Oh! Right," he said. "I remember now. She was explaining to you about how she was ageless."

"Right," Taylor agreed. "And it gave me this sense of…just happy. I felt like I had her again."

Danny had to put effort into avoiding tearing up. "What then?"

"It's…kinda hard to explain," she stated. "I…uh…I felt this, well before, I'd felt this…fire. Not like a real fire, you know? More like, a spiritual one?"

"Like your body was about to become a torch," he said, "just not physically?"

Taylor shot her head up to meet his gaze. "Yes, exactly!"

"Your mom mentioned it once," he explained. "I didn't ask about it, since it really didn't come up again."

"What did she say?" Taylor was glued to her seat.

"If I remember," he said, struggling, "she said if she let hatred or disappointment get her, she'd start to get sloppy and her power wouldn't work quite as well. It'd still keep her body safe, but she'd start shredding clothes and creating explosions with her speed."

"And was there an electric feeling?" Taylor asked.

This time it was Danny's turn. "Yeah! And your powers worked better?"

"Yeah!" She shot back. "I went over the speed of sound and didn't ruin my clothes!"

"That's amazing!" He said. "She said it was a constant battle to keep herself positive!"

"You never told me this before?"

Taylor's pointing out the obvious hit Danny a bit hard. "I forgot all about it for a while," he confessed. "I honestly hadn't remembered it at all until now. She only talked about it once. I figured, she's got it under control, no need to worry about it." He leaned back in the chair. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"No!" Taylor hugged him. "I'm just glad you remembered! Besides, I figured it out, didn't I?"

Danny sighed as he held his daughter tighter. She would move further away from him as time progressed. Already, she'd figured out something he had plain forgot. "I can't help but worry," he said. "I'm your father, after all."

"Thank you for everything," she said. "I don't say it often enough."

"Remember, if you're going out, be careful."

Taylor stood up. "Dad, are you worried about people getting to you to get to me?"

Danny hadn't heard this question in years. "I thought we went over this." He grinned. "You can't let me hold you back." He held her hand tightly. "I only worry until I realize how lucky I am. You rmother and I had this same conversation about this same topic. No matter what happens, I want you to care about and save people."

Taylor wiped her eye. "I love you, dad."

"I love you, dear."

She headed upstairs to change. Someone was not going to have a pleasant night tonight; she would make sure of that. Her glasses came off and her hoodie, shorts, and sneakers went on.

* * *

Two guys standing outside a rundown apartment building on the bad side of town passed around a joint while guarding the door. So far, the job hadn't been hard; when the Empire turned an abandoned building into prime white real estate, everybody knew it and those that didn't stayed away from the unusual graffiti in the area. Only idiots like solo villains and the ABB dared attack an Empire storehouse.

"Yeah, I swear, that fucking bitch," one swastika-garbed guard said to the other, "she wouldn't just…who the fuck…?" His sudden train of thought derailment caused his partner to whip his head around.

"Hey!" he shouted. "Lost, little girl? You're a long way from home."

A young girl in a grey hoodie and a pair of disheveled jean shorts and sneakers approached. "Brockton Bay Police Department, here to serve a search warrant," the girl said.

This drew laughter from the two guards. "Oh yeah?" one crowed. "Let's see it, bitch."

"Alright," she said, handing them a folded-up piece of paper.

"This oughta be good," one said, handing the joint to the other. He unfolded the piece of paper. It was simply a drawing of a fist. "What the…?"

She punched through the sheet of paper, catching him in the face and launching him into the brick exterior of the building, knocking a few bricks loose. Without hesitation, she delivered a standing side kick, propelling the other guard off the steps through a pile of trash cans and into a light pole. A quick jerk broke the front door in half, revealing an armor-plated door behind it. Grasping the edges, she unhinged it and stepped forward.

"The fuck?" voices inside cried. Gunfire greeted her, and minor powered villains launched various projectiles at her. Using the door as both a shield and a battering ram, she deflected fireballs and bullets, and kept knocking people through walls. As she progressed, she passed into each room and knocked out the guards protecting the money counters and drug dealers. Upstairs, she started encountering more concentrated opposition. It didn't matter. They ended up tossed out windows or planted through drywall.

After demolishing at least forty different guys, she headed up to the third floor. "I was wondering if you were going to show up!"

"Oh, hey. It's you," Taylor said. Hookwolf, she remembered.

"You've messed with us for the last time!" Hookwolf roared, activating his power. His body began to morph. True to his name, he resembled a wolf-like monster, with blades and hooks jutting out at various points as metal began to cover him completely.

Taylor leapt forward and kneed him through the wall and into the adjacent room. From his prone position, he slashed and tore, aiming to gut her. Her flesh absorbed these blows and she drove his head into the floor and shook the entire level of the building. A furious kick launched her through the wall and collapsed rubble on top of her. She shoved it aside and launched forward, dropping both feet on his chest and propelling them both through to the floor below. He crashed through a table, scattering glass shards everywhere and she kicked and punched at him.

He drove hooked and bladed fists into her sides, and she grabbed him by the jaw as he tried to bite, and heaved him through the concrete and brick out onto the street. She leapt out of the hole just in time to be clotheslined to the pavement, and he drew her up and punted her through a car in a nearby parking lot.

Shooting forward like a bullet, shouting like a banshee, Taylor shot into him with both fists extended, shattering ribs. Before he could fly from the kinetic energy, she grabbed him, shattered the concrete by using him as a whip, and dropping a foot onto his face. He groaned, which caused her to lift him up and smash a fist into his chest. The shockwave from the blow shattered windows. She walked over to a gang member who was just coming to. His back pocket held a cell phone. A quick dial put her through to the Protectorate.

"Hi, this is Hancock," she said. "I discovered an Empire Eighty-Eight storehouse, and I found they had a severe fist deficiency, so I corrected it." She set the phone down by the front stairs. As she flew away, one of the floors collapsed.

* * *

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 **Topic: Empire Under Attack**

 **In: Boards ►News ► Events ► America ► Brockton Bay**

 **RunnerGunner91** (Original Poster)

First of all, let's get some housekeeping out of the way: a few members (some prominent) were given bans and at least one received a personal visit from the PRT. Apparently, we got a little carried away and attempted to locate the identity of a cape in a previous thread. So, let's not do that.

Edit: Got a PM asking how it was allowed to happen. I don't know.

 **VideoSkunky** (Veteran Member)

Wow, shit. Anyway, did anybody see the latest Hancock battle? My house rattled.

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

The Empire had a store house on the outskirts. Thought they were safe, nobody would be stupid enough to go there and pick a fight. Hancock showed up. Someone had hacked the traffic camera and was watching the battle. It ended when she tossed him into the street and hit him with a right Mike Tyson would be proud of. I have to confess I was watching the whole thing.

 **WilliamFatner** (New Member)

Crap, I need to catch these streams more often. I about shit when I heard. Wasn't that really secure Empire territory?

 **EastOfBurden** (New Member)(Confirmed Cape)

I was on the response team that dealt with the aftermath. No casualties (despite a lot of stray bullets catching people). One thing I'm allowed to say is that higher-ups are divided on how Hancock handles things. No finesse at all.

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

So, tell me, compared to Alexandria, how does she stack up?

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member)(The Guy In The Know)

Well, based on what we've seen, I can't say she's done anything Alexandria couldn't have done. She was strong enough to defeat Lung and Hookwolf, didn't seem to worry about drowning, walked through a gauntlet of bullets and whatever powers the Empire's minor goons had, and that's what we know so far. She may also have been travelling upstate for…stuff. Nobody knows what.

 **RunnerGunner91** (Original Poster)

o.0 Bag, I thought you were banned?

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member)(The Guy In The Know)

I got yelled at by PRT officials in person. I had to sign a bunch of shit saying what I would accept responsibility for and what I would not be doing. I'm not at liberty to say anything else about it.

Now if you'll excuse me, I have more _not talking about it_ to do.

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member) (Cape son)

My dad heard the news that this was probably the least amount of collateral damage Hancock has caused yet. The building didn't collapse and apart from some stray bullets flying here and there, it was a relatively uneventful arrest.

 **IsGarfieldAnEndbringer** (New Member)

So, who do you think Hancock's next target is?

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member)(The Guy In The Know)

Probably the ABB. I mean honestly, she took down Lung, and a major player in the E88.

 **(End of Page 1)**

* * *

Taylor managed to catch her next target in view. She had to exercise caution, she couldn't just fly up to them. So she landed out of sight in an alleyway, and strolled up, as carefully as possible. Her target walked down the street, alone, having just separated from a group of allies moving in the opposite direction. She came up to her target and announced her presence with a clearing of the throat.

"Oh, it's just _you_ ," Madison said, her voice tinged with sarcasm.

"Look, Madison," Taylor said, "I'm tired of these games you and I play. You say or do something, and I have to react."

"Well, maybe if you weren't such a bitch all the time," Madison argued.

"I get angry," Taylor said. "I get it. But goddamn, you manage to be an annoying fuck with this shit you pull, anyway, I just wanted to tell you I'm sorry for that episode in class earlier."

This half-apology out of left field caught Madison Clements so off-guard, she didn't have a response. "Uh, ok," she managed. Her bearings returned, albeit slowly. "This doesn't change things!"

Taylor strolled away before it got more awkward. "I wasn't expecting it to."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter Three**

"No, no, not like _that_ , like _this_."

Taylor sat and watched as the stylist washed off her attempt and started applying makeup again. It bothered her how slowly she took to feminine basics like dolling oneself up. No less than eight times had the makeup had to be removed and reapplied. "Thanks, Candy," she said to the girl, who shook her head and showed comparison pics on her phone.

Candy gave a comforting smile. "You've never worn makeup before," she reminded, "so it's not like you figured out how to ride a bicycle in a day."

"Y'know," Taylor said, "it just irks me."

Candy puffed on a few bits of different colors on the cheek and the forehead. "See the difference it's making when you do it _this_ way?" She took another picture with her phone and compared. "See that?" She pointed.

Taylor let out a whistle. "That _is_ a difference." She leaned in closer. "Holy crap."

"You're trying to look good, honey." Candy's multi-colored hair flipped over her eye and she brushed it back like a hiker moves a vine. "This is a complicated art. If you fuck it up one way, you look like you have the flu. If you fuck it up another way, you look like a kabuki actor."

Taylor laughed. "Thanks for showing me how to put on makeup," she said.

Candy took a wet towel and washed away again. "The goal is to look like a different person," she said. "Take a look at this." A few clicks on her phone, and she had a side-by-side comparison. Taylor shot back in her chair in shock.

"What the hell?" she said.

"Yeah," Candy replied.

Taylor couldn't believe her eyes. On the left, there was a rather average-looking Asian girl. On the right stood what could pass for a Hollywood A-lister. "You can't be serious." The stylist nodded. "What."

"Now do you see why I'm trying to get you to understand this?"

Taylor's watch beeped. "Oh, crud, I gotta go." She shook Candy's hand. "I was right to sign up for your lessons."

Candy handed her a jewel case with a DVD. "Watch this at home," she said. "You'll learn more this way."

She shoved the stylist's lesson plan into her bag as she bounded out of the salon. A duck down an alleyway and she zoomed back home. Having control of her emotions required constant vigilance, and daily meditation, but it meant she could run past people at incredible speeds without pulping them, and not create shockwaves that would destroy things, nor would she ruin her clothes. Plus, it had the added advantage of not letting anyone watching the skies know where her house was. It possibly wouldn't matter, because she didn't wear a mask, but some precaution was better than none. Her father had an unusually high level of trust in her, she thought, but it was about time she started taking at least preliminary precautions.

The front door flew open and she found her father sitting at the table, an envelope in his hand, and he had a half-smile on his face. "How was school, honey?" he asked. She sat down and set her bag down.

"Dad, what's the occasion?"

He handed her the envelope. "The union and the companies are going to have a meeting this weekend to discuss a number of topics," he explained. "Nothing's set in stone, but this is the first real meeting we've gotten with them in a number of months."

"Here's hoping the best," she said, reading it in a haste. "Anyway, I've got my homework done at school, so I just got back from makeup and style lessons."

His mouth curled up just a bit. "If you're happy, I guess it's ok," he said half-heartedly. "Honestly, this makeup stuff is…well, I think it's just not something you should be worried about."

She laughed. "You think this's for dating?" She pushed up her glasses and wiped an eye with a thumb. "I'm doing this for disguise stuff." Honestly, dating struck her as the last thing she'd want to do right now.

"Why don't you just wear a mask?"

The question arose once more. "I didn't think it was a problem before!"

He flinched, ever so subtly. Immediately she regretted how harsh her tone had sounded. "It's never been." He let out a small sigh. "I just think there are easier ways to do this."

She shrugged. "I'm sorry if that sounded like a snap," she apologized. "I just…I just took what you said earlier seriously. I've been going out and recklessly flying headlong into danger. I'm putting you in danger." She rested her hands on the table perhaps a bit hard. "I thought about mom when I meditated this morning, and how she always flew straight into danger. She always said, 'forget about me. There are people to save!' I just don't know."

"Your mother was killed by a two-at-a-time _Endbringer attack_ ," he reminded. "No number of disguises would have made a difference."

Taylor half-laughed, half-cried. "Yeah, you're right," she said. "So what do you think?"

"Isn't there some kind of…I don't know, shortcut?"

Taylor let out a laugh-sigh. "Like…what?"

He opened his mouth, and closed it again. "I had an idea, but now it feels weird," he said. "No, just forget it."

She laughed. "It's ok."

He laughed. "Ah, well. Go with the makeup." He got up and poured himself a glass of soda. "Just make sure you're good at it."

"Dad?"

He drank the cup empty. "Hmm?"

She looked left and right. "Lunch?"

His eyes went wide a moment and he slapped himself. "Right!" He sighed. "Sorry. I've been absent-minded. How about Fugly Bob's?"

"Sounds good to me!"

The trip across town took less time than she expected. She hadn't eaten there in months; neither of them had. The logic went something like this: the heart wasn't meant to stand eating such high cholesterol food in rapid succession. Nevertheless, they arrived safely and partook of burgers the likes of which mortal men seldom experienced. "You know, kiddo," Danny said, finishing his shake, "I can't remember the last time we ate here."

"Yeah, me neither," Taylor lied, playing along.

"I think the calories affected my brain," Danny joked.

"This place is like a test; we're going through the gauntlet." She crumpled her wrappers and stuffed them into her empty cup.

"We talked earlier about the makeup thing," he said, returning to the earlier topic. "How's it actually going?"

She took a breath and recalled the entire process. "I'm almost to the point where I can apply the whole thing by myself," she explained. "I'm not expecting it to be a _disguise_ disguise. I just want people to have a different image in their mind for me in costume versus me not in costume."

"Sort of like an actress in disguise researching a movie," he thought out loud.

"Kinda," she agreed. "I mean, Tom Cruise grew a beard and delivered packages for UPS for a week and nobody noticed it was him."

"Are you _sure_ they weren't just not saying anything because he's kinda weird?"

Taylor chuckled. "You might have a good point there," she admitted. "Anyway, I hope to do a better job than Tom Cruise." She smiled. "Anyway, I've probably said this a ton, but, thanks for being so supportive of this crime fighting I do."

"It's really not a big deal," he reassured. "There was one time your mother had someone try to get to her through me."

Taylor snapped to attention. "What?"

"Some guy wanting to be a badass criminal took me hostage," Danny recalled. "When your mother got there, you should've seen the way she made this fool cower, you'd have thought he was going to crap himself."

"You never told me that," Taylor said.

Danny shrugged. "Never came up," he said. "She made an example of him, the news reported it, and no one ever tried it again."

"Wow, that is convenient," she admitted. "I wouldn't think that'd work."

"Not gonna lie, when we were first married, and I found the truth out, I was scared shitless." He coughed and wiped his mouth. "She would go out and I would freak the hell out."

"How come I don't remember that?" she asked.

"You were barely four years old," he reminded, "and she was good about going out when you were at school or asleep or away on a trip of some kind." He folded his trash and put it in his empty cup. "She wanted to be around you as much as possible. Anyway, finally she told me," He gestured with his hands, "'Honey, look. If people see me fly through a building head first unharmed, and they figure out you're my husband, do you think they don't know what'll happen if they push that button?' and just like that, I got it." A thought occurred to Taylor. Danny seemed to figure it out ahead of time. "Ah, don't worry, I made sure we picked out a table away from everyone so no one can hear."

"You really think of everything, dad."

He gestured with his hands. "Your mom would do stuff like this all the time. We'd be in a crowded restaurant, she's got her glass of red wine and water, and I'm halfway through an amazing steak and she starts talking out loud about busting hoods and gangsters downtown."

Another laugh escaped her. "Really? Yeah, that is _so_ mom."

Taylor popped her knuckles. "Did she ever talk about…her past?" She immediately felt the need to clarify. "I mean, not her past marriage, I mean, long before that."

His mind raced to organize years of snippets of conversations into a coherent thought. "She had a habit of talking about history and what she saw," he explained, "but she never talked about the gods or any of that."

"Ah," she uttered.

"Sorry," he apologized. "I'd love to be more help."

"You're a help more often than you realize," she told him.

* * *

Eidolon stepped through the doorway and into the chamber. The Doctor sat at one end of the table, her outfit tidy and pristine, and her hair tied up. She glanced over at Alexandria, helmetless and focusing steadfastly on a series of documents strewn on the table. Occasionally, the Number Man would look over from the papers at the Doctor and scribble something down in the margins of a document. Legend simply had arms at rest and waited.

"You're here," The Doctor said, acknowledging his arrival and bringing up a series of images on screen. "We have to discuss the confirmed arrival of the daughter of the Deities."

"Didn't we always know this would happen?" Alexandria asked.

"On one hand, this could be a useful event," Eidolon simply stated. "So far, every time she's done something, it has a stabilizing effect on the local cape community. Number Man, didn't you do the math on that?"

Number Man didn't respond to what he perceived as a jab. "Her activities have caused a nineteen percent decrease in cape-related crime in Brockton Bay," he explained. "Furthermore, prior to her actions, there was a variance of almost sixty-six percent in the frequency of severe cape-on-cape violence. Now, how often capes fight each other in Brockton Bay varies by less than twenty-four percent."

"So, is that within expected bounds?" Doctor said. Number man nodded. "Ok, so she hasn't been as wild and irrational as we thought. She will be useful. That's not what I'm talking about; we need to discuss the fact that she's a wild card in terms of her power."

Contessa walked in. "What we know to be true," she explained, "is that unlike the power that comes from the Entities, these powers are not entirely scientific in nature."

"Our experiments have turned up a distinct lack of information," The Doctor explained. "We've searched every history source we know of and none of the other Deities have ever turned up. Not so much as a clue to a burial site. If it hadn't been for that fool's collaboration with the Protectorate years ago, we wouldn't have had any blood to work with."

"We've been working on that," Contessa added.

"Regardless," Doctor said, referring to the scenes on the screen. "The girl known as Taylor Hebert is, based solely on powers demonstrated, not at full power thus far."

"Her power has advanced considerably already," Alexandria said. "She was strong enough to effortlessly hold Lung underwater, and fast enough to be considerably supersonic. Furthermore, she's already demonstrated physics modification."

Number Man looked up. "Meaning?"

"At first, her power acted like Hancock's," Doctor explained. "Before he settled down, the wake of his flight would create shockwaves. After he became a married man, his emotions stabilized, and he could fly without even ruining his clothes."

"Not to mention his latent power would affect the weather," Alexandria added. "It was useful whenever Leviathan attacked."

"Have we found her Other?" Legend asked.

"I honestly have no clue," Doctor said. " _That_ 's what bothers me."

"So, if she doesn't have an Other?" Legend asked.

"She might be completely indestructible," Contessa offered. "We just don't know."

"During the battle that cost the Deities their lives," Doctor explained, "Hancock had single-handedly reduced Behemoth to his core. If it hadn't been for the interference of the Simurgh, neither would have died."

"How was the Simurgh able to affect the female?" Eidolon asked.

"We still don't know," Contessa admitted. Doctor Mother nodded in agreement. "Even though we've analyzed her dozens of times."

That struck Legend. "What?" He hadn't heard of this.

"That's right, Legend hasn't been informed," Contessa said.

Doctor Mother displayed a new image on screen. "We recovered her corpse in a significant state of destruction," she explained. "Using every regenerative and restorative power we could think of, we got her corpse to the point where only half the head was destroyed, along with the lower torso."

"Good lord," Legend said, looking at the grisly images.

"The big deal came when we got her heart beating," Doctor continued. "Once her torso was ninety percent together, missing only the limbs, we started her heart with electrical stimulation. It beat for about ten seconds."

She pressed a button and a rather grisly video played. A few looked away at various moments.

"The strange thing was," Contessa picked up, "her heart stopped again. Since that, however, her corpse has been _regenerating_."

Legend turned to them. "So, is she going to be alive again?"

Doctor Mother shook her head. "No," she explained. "Her corpse fully regenerated as of a week ago, and there is still no heart or brain activity. And yet, no signs of decay, no smell, no tissue degradation."

Suddenly, a detail made sense to Legend. "Is that why the old vials and the new vials produce such different results?" He asked.

"Her body isn't indestructible as a corpse, apparently," Contessa said. "We extract her blood. The blood plasma, when added to one of our vials, seems to prevent a lot of negative effects."

"You know, I think I deserved to be told this before," Legend said. He shook his head. "Wait, what about the red blood cells?"

"Still working on it," Doctor replied. "Nothing yet." With another press of a button, the screen went live to a secure room, where Annette Hebert's corpse lay in a bed, still, unmoving. The sight gave both Eidolon and Legend pause. She had no visible blemishes of any kind. She looked flawless, except for her status as a corpse; even her skin had a normal color.

"How does her body stay like that?" Legend asked.

"We're dealing with what some would call _magic_ ," The Doctor replied. "It's honestly going to be one of our biggest weapons against Scion."

"I mean, look what just her blood plasma's done," Contessa commented. "I shudder to think what Weld might have turned into had we only been able to use our _old_ vials, for example."

"There must be a use for her actual red blood cells," Doctor stated, "and we're going to find it. And once we do, we'll be stronger than ever. In the meantime," She turned to Alexandria and Legend, "Wards or not, we have to steer the daughter into serving our cause, even inadvertently."

The Triumvirate understood. "How exactly do we do that?" Alexandria asked.

Doctor Mother glanced at Contessa. "Alright, here's what each of you should do," the latter said.

* * *

Taylor looked at herself in the mirror, took a picture with her computer's webcam, and emailed it to Candy. The response came in a little less than five minutes later. "Not bad, Tay," the stylist said, "I think you should go a little easier on the area by your chin, but it's a pretty good start." A few minutes later, another email arrived containing a Photoshopped picture of her, looking even more different than she normally looked. _Wow_ , she thought, looking at Candy's work, and reading the description of how to accomplish it. _I almost couldn't tell that was me._ She went in the bathroom, washed off her makeup completely, and started the twenty to thirty minute process of dolling herself up according to proper instructions.

"How's it going, dear?" Danny asked, climbing the stairs.

"It's going, dad," Taylor stated. "I'm apparently getting better."

"It's a Saturday, so there's going to be more drunk people out in the street. Try not to get thrown up on." He leaned in her doorway, and saw her reflection in the mirror. "Hey, you're getting good at this!"

She finished one layer of foundation in one area and started on the other area. "It's a slow process, but it's going." She cleared her throat. "Sorry. Anyway, Is there anything you want me to get while I'm out?"

He thought about it as he moved back a step, out of her doorway. "You can get some toilet paper," he said. "I think we're almost out."

"Got it," Taylor said.

"I'll leave you to your business," Danny said, leaving.

After about a half hour, her reflection in the mirror resembled the picture her stylist trainer had sent her. She looked at a wig on her countertop mannequin head, and grabbed a hairnet next to it. With a series of tugs, she put her wavy, curly black hair into the net and patted it down as much as possible. Then she put the wig on top. A series of clips affixed it to her hair. The dark reddish, curly hair of the wig was meant to create a subtle distinction between her non-super self and when she went out to battle evil. With a bit of focus, she felt her power pass through the fake hair and makeup. Shielding it required some effort.

 _Sure, any number of people already know who I am,_ she thought. _But this way, I can be more than just a kid who flies around. I can be Hancock._ Her biological father's name and handle struck her as unusual, and a bit intense. She'd seen the videos and the stories online. Her mother had told her more than her share. He fought with such intensity that people would stop fighting an Endbringer when he showed up, just to give him room. Could she be _Hancock_? She would certainly try.

She put her glasses on her desk, put on the grey hoodie and jean shorts and cheap sneakers, and climbed out the window. She took to the sky and flew a good half mile from the house before she stopped to think of her next target.

"Do you mind if I tag along?"

Taylor heard a voice behind her, feminine and powerful. She turned around.

She almost had a coronary. "A…Alexandria?...!"

The helmeted muscle of the Protectorate's top three nodded. "Hancock, is it?" she said. "I was wondering if it might be possible to ask you for a favor."

Taylor's head jerked. " _You_ , want a favor, from _me_ ," she asked.

"Right," Alexandria said. "A sort of…what word fits… _good faith_ act. I believe you're trying to live up to your father's legacy, and I want to see that happen very much."

Taylor snapped out of her reverie. "What sort of favor?"

"There's crimes that we can't solve just by flying in and breaking things," Alexandria explained. "Breaking up trafficking rings often requires getting evidence of corruption way up the chain of command."

Taylor shrugged with her hands. "I mean, yeah, that's true," she replied. "So what are we going to do if I agree to do this favor?"

"The PRT believes that the Russian mob is trafficking women through Boston, Massachusetts and Brockton Bay. We've tracked it to four possible locations, and a potential target." She pointed her thumb to the right. "Mind if we go to headquarters and talk about it, if you're interested?"

Taylor had to work hard to remain calm. The chance to see into the Brockton Bay PRT headquarters was too good to pass up. "Uh, yeah! I'm in."

Alexandria turned away quickly to avoid showing her pleased grin. "Good," she said. "This way."

They flew for a bit, until the large building emerged. As they approached, security initially moved to question Taylor, but Alexandria waved them off and they let her through. One of the spare PRT officers took one look and approached Alexandria quickly. "Alexandria," he said, handing her a notebook. "We've got the latest information from the perp we questioned."

"What do we have?"

He pulled a picture from a folder. "We have a connection. In a little over an hour, we have a guy who we've convinced to take a look at our 'goods' and make an offer."

Taylor looked between the picture and the two of them and pieced the puzzle together. "So, you want me to go undercover in a sex trafficking ring?" She asked.

"I'm not forcing you to," Alexandria replied, "and furthermore, all the _really_ hard work's been done already. We want you because we believe they won't be able to hurt you."

She folded her arms. "So, what would I be doing?"

"We've got word they've got a list of clients," The officer said, "so that's what we need."

"So why don't _you_ go undercover?"

Alexandria motioned at her figure.

"So they're into young ones," Taylor said. Her mood darkened. "Ah, got it."

"And so, you see how lucky I am to have found you," she told Taylor. "You're young enough, and you've got almost the same powerset I have."

"Alright," Taylor agreed. "After all, so far I haven't found anything that can hurt me, and I have a problem with people using kids for sick purposes, so count me in."

"Excellent," Alexandria commented. "Follow me."

They passed through a number of secure meeting rooms where she was fitted with her equipment and briefed as to what would be the mission. She was given a new set of clothes to wear, a shabby, but not decrepit miniskirt, a revealing blouse, and a thinner, shinier jacket. Next, she put on some heeled boots that looked somewhat worn. "I look like a recovering, druggie hooker," Taylor commented.

"That's what we were going for," she said. "Your makeup seems a bit…higher-class, but it's probably no big deal." She pushed at the bangs. "Is that a wig…?" She shook her head. "No, actually that's probably for the better."

An officer brought in a pair of contact lenses. "You need to wear these," he said. "Open up." She opened her eyes wide and he carefully inserted them.

"Are these cameras or something?"

"Exactly," another officer said. "We need to see what you see."

"Makes sense," Taylor said. "So, how much longer?"

"Not much longer," Alexandria said. "We've got one shot at this and we don't want to miss our mark."

After another few minutes, they'd briefed her several times, and the two took to the air. "I have to appreciate you doing this for me," Alexandria said. "Once this is over, I'll owe you one."

"Armsmaster said he owes me one," Taylor commented, "so I'm just racking up favors."

They flew over the countryside and the various cities, at incredible speed. Taylor wondered why Alexandria wasn't worried about her outfit coming off, but she realized the PRT probably had eyes everywhere, and had seen her running exercise. The prospect of flying with a cape such as this excited her. She expected to garner attention, but the Triumvirate? She hadn't seen that one coming.

"We're here," Alexandria said, landing in a parking lot.

Taylor landed. There was a car waiting. A man stepped out of the back. "This took a lot of setting up," he explained, "so make sure you get a good look at the target documents. We don't know what they look like, but several snitches gave us the information that there was a master list they went off of."

Taylor climbed into the car. "How did you guys get the people to talk?"

The man climbed in and shut the door. "Taylor, is it?" She nodded. He showed her images on his phone. "We used a bit of 'harsh' cape methods."

"Okay, I guess that makes sense," she said. "So, what do I do next?"

"They've gone over the contacts," he explained. "They explained to you where you'll be and who you'll talk to. Here's what happens: You'll be led to a holding area. Then, the goons will come to get you, and take you to meet the clientele. You'll probably be bid on. It's not likely you'll be chosen. In any case, based on what we've heard, you'll have an opportunity somewhere either before or after the bidding to get a look at the evidence."

"Jeez," Taylor said. The magnitude of the bust was coming to her.

"This isn't like the stuff you've been doing before," the officer said. "No offense."

"Yeah." She took a deep breath and let it out. Walking through a building of gunmen and minor parahumans was one thing. Busting up a big-time gangster was easy when one couldn't be hurt. But here, she would have to put all her talents to the test. Children would be preyed upon if she wasn't careful. Indeed, children _already_ had been preyed upon. "How much longer? I want to get these people free as soon as possible."

"Another fifteen minutes." He checked the cell phone's clock. "We want to be early, but we also don't want to seem eager."

The car came to a stop at an abandoned factory just outside Boston. A large limousine sat opposite them.

"Act nervous," he said. "But not too nervous."

He got out and opened the door. "Piotr!" he said, feigning good-natured friendliness. "I've got another one for you!"

The large man puffed on a cigar. "Henrik," he said, somewhat gruff. "The last one you gave me didn't last long. I hope this one is more hardy."

"Let me assure you," the agent said, "this one is hardier. You're not going to break this one."

"Ha." He threw the cigar away. "The clients will be the judge of _that_." He waved at the door. The agent opened the door. "Let me see, _oh_! This one is younger than the last one!"

Taylor stepped out, faking an unsteady gait. "Hi…there…" she stammered, avoiding eye contact, holding her arms a bit jittery at her sides.

"You say _this one_ is hardy? Hah!" He put a fat hand on Taylor's chin, pushing her up into view, examining her as a jeweler would a diamond. "What is the name, child?"

Taylor coughed nervously. "M…Madison," she said. "Madison Clements."

Piotr looked at her outfit. "What a little _whore_ you are, Madison Clements," he said.

Taylor desperately had to hold in a smile. "I…I guess so," she uttered.

"Are we going to discuss payment?" The agent said with folded arms. "You're handling the product."

"Ah, how clumsy!" Piotr said, unlatching the trunk, and producing a briefcase. "Five hundred thousand dollars, American." The agent checked the case and smiled. "Now you can have…oh, how they say…one hell of a day at the races?" They both laughed.

"Pleasure doing business with you," The undercover agent said, shaking the hand.

"I knew you would not let me down," Piotr said. He grabbed Taylor by the arm. "Now you come with me."

"Y…yes, sir."

They got in the car, and there were two other men in the car, each with at least one gun. They all looked vaguely Eastern European or Russian. She recognized the language as a regional dialect of Russian, although she didn't understand much. Her mother had been the one who spoke all the languages.

"What is the whore's name?" One man said, in English.

"Madison Clements," the response came from Piotr.

The third turned to Taylor. "Madison, if you simply cooperate and do not cause ruckus, your pain will be less," he said.

 _I've been saying that for almost a year now_ , Taylor thought, quietly nodding and keeping the act up.

It was almost another ten minutes before they navigated through outskirts Boston traffic to get to another series of abandoned buildings. The dreariness of the scenery gave her a pause. Sure, Brockton Bay had _more_ than its share of decrepit, ghetto-like economic ruin, but seeing it just as bad here, in Boston, really drove the point home. The car stopped, and the men got out first. There was a short conversation, and then the door opened. She met a few new faces in the parade of gang members. These few looked like richer, higher-up made men on the totem. These were people whose careers had been well established, primarily due to horrific crimes they likely performed without a second thought. It turned her stomach, though she fought hard to suppress her emotions. Her combating gangs and criminal activity in Brockton Bay felt like minor leagues compared to this. Alexandria had given her a chance to see the inner workings of the dark side of parahuman activity.

They walked her through a series of hallways and tunnels to a holding area under the ruins of the factory, and placed her in a holding area with six other girls. The steel door had been in place so as to prevent the need for shackles, she noticed, as Piotr shoved her in and bolted the door behind him. The slit opened in the door. "You girls sit tight," he said. "You get a chance to see the boss later, and then meet your new owners." He had a bit of humor in his voice at the word 'owner,' which really made her ill. The slit closed and footsteps walking away meant she was alone in here with the others.

"Oh God, another one," one of the girls said in German. Taylor didn't understand what she said, but could guess well enough. She put on her best scared shitless face and faced the others.

"Do any of you speak English?" she asked.

"Speak a little," a girl said in a heavy Polish accent.

"What's your name?"

"Julianna," she replied. She tugged at her reddish-brown hair nervously. "We have sat here for six days. Do you know any help is coming?"

"I don't know if any help is coming," Taylor lied, "but our only hope of making it out alive is sticking together."

"I was told we would have work to live in America," one of the other girls said. "After we get here, they took our passport."

"I think we're going to be sold," Taylor explained, trying to act nervous.

The dark-haired girl next to Julianna covered her mouth to avoid shrieking in terror. Some of the others spoke to each other in various languages. What confused her was that these girls spoke various levels of English. At least some of them had to have been smuggled into the country. How did they get these people into the United States? Was it really easier to bring them here and then take them there? Or was it for the convenience of the buyers? Perhaps that was it. These rich douchebags came from all across the world to buy a sex slave. It registered a fierce hatred inside of her. She had to calm down, and focus on her acting, or else things could go pear-shaped at the last minute.

The door boomed several times from the impact of a fist. "Ladies, time is up!" Piotr said. "Single file! No fuss!" Several latches slid off and the huge door creaked open. The same four men as earlier stomped in and regarded their hostages. "You have to look best for the show tonight!"

Taylor waited for the other girls to leave the room, and she followed last. They marched down several hallways until they found their way to a large series of rooms just outside the main part of the abandoned facility. The men led the girls to a separate series of rooms to be dolled up a bit for the final show. Piotr turned to one of his fellow goons. "Vitaly, take Madison to the boss," Piotr said. "He hasn't been introduced yet, and he make final decision."

"Yes," Vitaly said. "You!" He collared Taylor. "With me!"

She yelped and started walking with him. He did not, she noticed, look like she expected a Slavic gangster to look. Despite his accent, he had ashy blonde hair and wasn't bulky. He looked remarkably like someone who would work the docks with her father. His expensive suit struck her as the only indication of his illegality, other than the pistol at his hip.

After what seemed like ten minutes of walking, they arrived in an office guarded by two men who _did_ look like stereotypical Russian gangsters.

Inside the office, a man with a rather hilariously large moustache and long black hair sat smoking a pipe and watching old Hanna Barbera cartoons on a laptop. Taylor would have burst out laughing if she could.

"Americans make best children's programming," the boss said. He turned to Vitaly and 'Madison.' He set his pipe in a tray. "What have you brought me?"

"My name is…" Taylor said.

The boss reached over and belted her on the face with the back of his hand. _Hit me again, motherfucker_ , she thought.

"Did not speak to the dog!" He said.

"Her name is Madison, and she is new," Vitaly announced. Taylor kept her head down and kept the fearful act up as much as possible. The boss let out a huff and shut the laptop lid. He got up and brushed some papers as he approached her. She caught glimpses of names. A thought occurred to her, how would she know if she'd gotten enough information? For the moment, she focused.

"Let me examine you," the boss said, shifting her head left and right, looking closely at each part. He pulled her top forward a bit and peered down. It took a lot of effort for her not to introduce him to the concrete. "A bit undeveloped, but enough to work with." He sat back down. The laptop went open again. "Put her on the second bid group."

She reached over and snatched the three-ring binder from his desk and flipped through it. The reaction came at once; the boss reached for it at the same time two henchmen reached for Taylor. Vitaly took a noticeable step backward. She managed to look at three pages front and back before they grabbed the binder. At least one senator was on the list and several executives of prominent companies.

The boss pistol whipped her and she pretended to fall down, giving up the binder. She hoped she'd seen enough to provide the Protectorate with evidence. The boss kicked her in the face and she yelped. "That was mistake," he said, brandishing his gun.

 _Goddammit_ , Taylor thought. _He couldn't just kick me a few more times_.

"Stop or I'll shoot!"

Taylor looked up. The gangsters looked surprised. Vitaly's accent disappeared and he sounded American. His gun pointed at the boss. _Wait_ , she thought, _who did he work for?_ She decided to stay on the ground.

"The fuck is this?" The boss yelled.

"FBI!" 'Vitaly' said. "Don't fucking move!"

Overhead, they heard the somewhat distant sound of thunder. From her vantage point on the floor, she looked up and saw the door partially open, too quietly for 'Vitaly' to notice, and a pistol to slide into view. _Goddammit_ , Taylor thought, propelling herself.

Everything seemed to happen in slow motion. The gun fired, the enormous boom ricocheting around the office. She scrambled to her feet at super speed, sliding a few times before her feet caught pavement. Her emotions kept in check, her power did not cause a sonic boom, which would have killed everyone in the room. The bullet shot out from the gun and had covered two-thirds the distance to his head before she had made it all the way to her feet. A desperate struggle, she launched herself forward and caught the bullet with her left hand, then immediately slammed on the brakes with her flight to come to as complete a stop as possible.

She stopped, but bowled 'Vitaly' over when her shoulder collided with his chest. The force had largely been dispelled by her backwards use of flight, but he hit the ground and groaned in pain. A few more shots rang out, and she made sure to knock them in directions she believed would be away from people. A few disappeared into her outfit and clinked on the ground.

A sound of shouting and a few screams of pain behind her caused her to turn. A section of the wall exploded revealing a number of FBI agents, some active PRT agents, and one very visible sight for sore eyes.

"Alexandria!" Taylor shouted.

"Go help with the rescue and evacuation!" she shouted.

Taylor didn't need to be told twice. She ran out of the way of people and took off down the hall, passing the line of agents and made her way to the right where she navigated a series of dark hallways until the various shouts came from in front of her instead of behind.

"Fuck!" A gunman shouted, drawing his weapon. "The bitch was a cape the whole time!" He fired, and she knocked his rounds out of the air and planted him into the stage he stood on. Several men were running from the stage, some of them were attempting to carry girls off with them.

"Not this time!" she shouted, knocking the men into walls or the ground, separating the girls from their captors.

"You've got powers!" Julianna shouted.

"Come with me!" Taylor commanded. The girls climbed on her, wrapping themselves around either her body directly or each other. She draped her arms around the group as much as possible, and took to flight. In less than a minute, they were outside. Ambulances were nearby and Alexandria had led a group of FBI agents who were rounding up captured criminals and escorting them to vans marked as to which agency they belonged.

"You did a hell of a job," Alexandria said.

Taylor shook her head. "I'm…wow," she said. "I'm just…blown away."

"The FBI had planted Vitaly," Alexandria explained, "but he wasn't able to smuggle any of the information out. We needed someone inside to get a look at it and transmit the information out. The FBI didn't have access to the kind of technology that would have passed their security check."

Taylor snapped out of the magnitude of her mission. "But," she protested, "I didn't pass through any security check! How did my contact lenses transmit without being caught?"

"That's a trade secret," Alexandria said.

Taylor sat on a concrete barrier and brushed her hands through her hair. "Oh, Christ." She let out a sigh. The image of all these girls passed through her mind. "I almost blew it. I caused Vitaly to risk his cover because he thought I was going to get shot. You guys didn't tell him?"

Alexandria shook her head. "The FBI didn't have a reliable way of getting him informed." She sat next to Taylor. "Look, you made a decision, and this time, it turned out to be the correct one. You got a few pages of incriminating evidence, and sure enough, it enabled us to intervene."

"But it could have gone really bad."

Alexandria nodded. "It could have. You're right." She patted Taylor on the back. "But look at it this way, I picked you because I figured you could rise to the occasion. I get that feeling from you."

"How many?"

The heroine didn't have to wonder what she meant. "At least five hundred every three months for the past year," she explained.

"Jesus," Taylor exclaimed, looking at the ground.

Alexandria stood up. "I have more work to do," she said, "so I'm going to head back to the PRT and get back in the action. I'm in high demand. But I'd appreciate it if you showed up and got debriefed within the next day or two. No pressure." She lifted off the ground.

"Wait a minute."

Alexandria paused and looked back.

"I'm not joining the Wards," Taylor said, "but I'd like to receive some kind of," she struggled for the word, "not necessarily training, my mom gave me some of that, but…"

"Assistance?"

Taylor snapped her fingers. "Yeah, that," she agreed.

"Normally, I wouldn't," Alexandria explained, "but considering you made a potential accident into a success, I'm going to see what I can do."

Taylor chuckled a bit. "I must seem selfish," she pointed out, "because I want help, but not to the point that I can be fired."

Alexandria pondered this point. "I suppose," she agreed, "but why not? It works for New Wave."

'Vitaly' approached from the side. "Thanks for saving my life back there," he said, his accent a standard American. "I honestly didn't expect the PRT to send someone so young in."

Taylor shook his hand. "I'm Hancock," she said. "Wait, you're not mad for me blowing your cover?"

"Why should I?" He asked. "It worked out in the end. Hancock, eh? So I take it 'Madison' isn't your real name?" Taylor shook her head. "Ok. I won't ask. Secret identity and all that."

"I'm glad you were there," she said. "It was nice working with you."

"Jack Alderman," he said, shaking her hand.

"Do I need to provide a statement?"

"Alexandria's statement seems fine," he said.

"In that case, I'm going to take off." Taylor said. Jack nodded, and she took to the air.

* * *

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 **Topic: Massive Sex Trafficking Ring Busted**

 **In: Boards ►News ► Events ► America ► Boston**

 **DancingBabii** (Original Poster)(Veteran Member)(Confirmed PRT)

Alright, ladies and gentlemen. We've got our first major Hancock piece of action. I was authorized to give details by none other than Alexandria herself. Here's what I'm allowed to tell you:

· Hancock was asked to go undercover in a suspected sex trafficking ring.

· She got ahold of evidence sufficient to allow the FBI and the PRT to enter and capture criminals.

· She saved the life of an FBI agent.

· At least six girls were rescued, and the information led to the location and rescuing of twenty-seven more.

· A bunch of prominent businessmen and at least one congressman is going to jail.

 **VideoSkunky** (Veteran Member)

So, no new power information, but a major deal. I mean, this is likely to lead to more arrests in the coming weeks. *Grabs popcorn*

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

Did you just casually skip over the fact that she worked with Alexandria? I mean, shit, how did she even get her attention? Anybody want to tell me that?

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

Maybe it's because she (apparently?) seems to fit Alexandria's powerset better than Glory Girl? I mean, if she doesn't have to worry about her invulnerability shutting off, she can team up better.

I think it'd be funny if she fought Alexandria.

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

That'd be fucking hilarious. XD

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member) (Cape son)

You guys are weird. "Ho hum Hancock busted up a sex trafficking ring. LOL LET ME KNOW WHEN SHE DECIDES TO FIGHT A HERO FOR NO FUCKING REASON."

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

Come on, CJ, you've never debated who you thought would win in a fight? Who you like better? Who's more attractive? I mean, if nothing else, haven't you debated Kirk Vs. Picard?

Besides, how many sex trafficking rings have the PRT busted up? Haven't we seen this headline before?

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member) (Cape son)

No, I haven't debated that stuff. I'm just glad she's out there doing this stuff.

 **RunnerGunner91** (Veteran Member)

You people have the strangest sense of focus. She beats up Lung, she crushes Hookwolf, she ends a sex trafficking ring. I'm with CJ on this one.

 **DancingBabii** (Original Poster)(Veteran Member)(Confirmed PRT)

Hey, I'm keeping track of this shit _professionally_. This is my job. If she fought Alexandria, the paperwork would be insane.

 **(End of Page 1)**

* * *

Taylor reentered the front door of her house. She went up to her room and took off her wig and released her power from her makeup, allowing it to wash off. She removed her wig and hair cap, brushing her hair into its usual state. After drying her face and putting her glasses back on, she headed downstairs.

"Got a new recipe from the internet to try," Danny said, placing a plate of some Italian dish in front of her. "I heard from the news that you helped put an end to a human trafficking group. That's a hell of a job."

Taylor placed on her fork a chunk of noodles and sauce and ate. "God, this is good, dad," she complimented. "By the way, I was wondering."

He looked up after finishing a bite. "Hmm?" He asked.

"I think it's time you told me what mom told you," she said.

He almost laughed. "I told you, kiddo," he said. "she never talked about it."

"That's my point."

He blinked. "I'm not sure I understand."

She let out a sigh. "'She never talked about the gods,'" she reminded. "Your exact words. If you'd never heard of any of it, I'd imagine you'd say something like, 'She never said anything.'"

Without missing a beat, he silently mouthed, "not here, later." He picked up his fork and ate some more. "So, what do you think? Is my cooking good?"

Taylor stared for just a moment. She ate more. "Yeah, it's great. Make this again some time."

He motioned to the left and right with his eyes. "How about tomorrow," he said, "we just stay here and kick back." _You and I need to get the hell out of here tomorrow._

Taylor smiled. "Yeah, dad, I'm just in the mood to listen to music," she said. _I expect an answer soon_.

Danny matched her grin. "I'll be sure to play your favorite tune, I just have to make sure my record player isn't broken." _You'll hear everything, I just have to get us to where we aren't at risk of being listened to_.

Taylor finished her meal, her mind racing. Her mother had proposed the code phrases. They'd discussed them, drilled them over and over again. They'd never used them for real before.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter Four**

Taylor and her father packed a bunch of food and some bottled water, and prepared to head out for the afternoon.

"You know where to go," he said, being intentionally vague in case someone somehow listened in. He grabbed his motorcycle helmet and thick overcoat.

"Yeah," Taylor agreed, getting her straps for her glasses. She grabbed her wallet, although she doubted she would need it.

Downstairs, she put her hiking boots on and tucked her jeans into them. He came downstairs and handed her the pack. She draped it over her back. "Ready?" He strapped the helmet onto his head.

"Ready," she said, double lacing her boot strings.

Outside, they made sure no one was looking, and then she gripped his waist while he draped an arm over her shoulder and took off. The helmet kept the wind out of his face and she held him tight as they zoomed across the countryside. They slowly gained speed as she made sure to accelerate at a rate that would not harm him. After about fifteen minutes of flying, they arrived at a cabin in an isolated part of the woods.

"Alright, we're here," he said, flipping the light switch. "Check the solar arrays and I'll get everything situated."

"Got it." She headed outside and made sure the battery had enough charge for a few hours. The sun was out, and it was relatively unobscured by the trees. She flew from array to array getting the panels turned on and adjusted so they would track the sky. With any luck, they wouldn't have to worry about losing light or climate control due to a dead battery.

It took her less than six minutes to get all the solar panels turned on and tracking the sun. She returned to the house and saw him preparing the meal.

"Heating and cooling are on," he said, "Water supply is almost full. The cooking will be slow, but I think we'll manage."

"Battery's good and the panels are up," she said.

"Good," he said. "As soon as I get this ready, I'll sit down and explain everything."

"No rush," she said, somewhat lying.

She read a book she'd packed in her jacket pocket while waiting for the food to finish. It took a while longer than normal, but soon enough they had meat and eggs for breakfast. She ate her meal with fork in one hand and read with the other.

"Been a while since we just came up here together," he said.

"It's the best place I can think of," she said. She looked over at the device on the counter across the room. It had a green light. If the light turned red, and a beeping sounded, it meant there was a listening device in the vicinity. So far, they hadn't had even as much as a close call. No one had figured it out.

"No one's listening to us," he told her, finishing his eggs. "So, once you're done, I'll start."

"Now, she told you all this and you didn't tell me?" She tried not to sound too accusing.

He struggled with words. "She'd hoped to tell you herself when you got a bit older," he said, "and I honestly felt that, if you found out you'd miss her even more. It's a lame excuse, I know."

"I'm not that mad," she admitted. "I'm just curious." After a few more bites, she had finished her breakfast, and she shoved the plates into the sink after checking the water again and rinsing them off.

She sat on the couch in the main room. After a few minutes, Danny had completed his breakfast and the rinsing of his dishes. He reached under the table and grabbed a glass and poured himself some wine from a bottle he kept stashed away.

"Alright," he said, taking a big swig and swallowing hard. "The story, as I've been told, has details told to your mother by several of your fellow kind, in addition to what she saw. I don't think I've forgotten anything, but this is going to take a while. I might have missed some details. Ready?"

"Ready," Taylor said.

* * *

Three thousand years ago, on the plains and in the forests of what would come to be known as Europe, the various tribes of man fought battles with bronze weapons. Iron had not yet become a tool of death or construction. Written history in the area had not begun yet. One of these tribes wandered from the south to around the area just east of modern-day France. A community living on a plain just outside of a forest, numbering around a hundred, had sheltered thirty winters together, through thick and thin, surviving on the land and the toil of their efforts. One summer, a young girl was born. As she grew, her waves of curly dark hair grew to be her most distinct feature. It amazed the villagers, as every one of them either had red or light hair. This would not continue to be her most distinct feature as she neared her teens, however.

By the age of twelve, she had survived a plague that claimed the lives of nine of the young girls in her village, and never seemed to take ill. By fifteen, she could pull the horse cart and plow better than the horses or oxen. As word spread from village to nearby village, the religious fanatics began to pour in one after the other. At eighteen, she gathered her belongings and departed her village. She could no longer bear to subject her parents and neighbors to the bombardment of both genuine worship and intense hatred that the outsiders would bring.

One fine morning, the sun high in the cloud-dotted sky, she sat on a cliff face overlooking the ocean. Bread purchased from a village a full day's walk back served as a good pairing with the meat of a wild boar she'd killed and cooked over campfire at the end of the previous evening. She took a drink from her water bladder she held and tied the half-empty pouch to her hide trousers. Holding her hands up to the sun's light, she examined them. Not a blemish or scratch marked them in her thirty years of life. _Why am I so different_? She thought to herself as she breathed in the salty air.

She still bore the skin of a youth. In all the battles, all the hunts, no weapon of man or tusk of beast could pierce her flesh. What creature had such thick hide? Were the men who spoke of demons correct? Did she happen to be a servant of the dark ones? Climbing to her feet, she looked over at the rocks and water below. Untying her water bladder and setting it by the outer edge of her campsite, she took a jaunt off the edge of the cliff. The wind rushed past her as the jagged rocks and water approached at incredible speed. She threw up her hands in defense.

A moment or two passed, and she moved her arms. Her body floated a foot above the rocks and water. The spray came up to meet her face. _By the gods_ , she thought. _I'm flying like a bird!_

From that moment on, she journeyed the Earth. What struck her was the vast differences in peoples from one place to another. The farther towards the African deserts she went, the darker skinned they were. Far east, there were peoples who had the most unique art she had ever seen. To the west, the natives fought with bow and arrow and had a relationship with nature more spiritual than most. Each time she praised the gods for granting her the gift of journeying the world unbounded by ocean borders. Occasionally, she'd walk the frozen places where no one lived. On the islands to the west, where the sun shone hotter, she ate tropical fruits that grew almost nowhere else. Every so often, someone would shout at her and weapons would be drawn, but few pressed the issue once they saw spear tips and sword blades crack against her skin.

It hadn't been until five hundred years after her birth did she meet the first member of her kind. He'd been born in a tribe in the southern part of Africa, and he hadn't even been named by his parents, as they'd not expected him to live. Once he became old enough and powers began to manifest, they abandoned him on the savannah. He would (much) later come to be known as Hancock.

Their first home had been in Egypt. Some others of their kind travelled north to try and prevent a war in what would soon come to be known as the holy land. Living together, their powers faded, and he took a job as a tool maker for the Pharaoh's soldiers. She weaved for clothing, rugs, and other purposes. They soon believed they could try to have a child.

Their happiness would soon come to an end. Her light skin had not darkened and the "pale one," as she came to be nicknamed by the locals, drew the attention of fanatics. As she worked on a new outfit for the local governor, a trio of armed men burst through the front doorway of their residence. They grabbed her and had attempted to stab her when her beloved entered the door.

"You have brought the devil into your home, toolmaker!" one man shouted.

The future Hancock clenched his fists and stepped forward. "You will not harm my wife!" he screamed, bursting forth. He planted a fist into the primary attacker's jaw, breaking it almost in half.

"You dare…!" The second man drew his scimitar and attempted to gouge the stomach.

"Monsters!" the former toolmaker grabbed the hilt, stopping the blade from entering deep, and bashed his head against his would-be assassin's. The man released the blade and he brandished it from the man, almost decapitating the first assailant and impaling the second. The third man, seeing his comrades fall, fled. The toolmaker chased him.

"My love!" She who would be called Annette shouted. "Don't!"

The future Hancock ambled after his assailant, clutching his bleeding wound. As he limped farther, a strange thing occurred. His pain faded. He ran faster. "You murderer!" he shouted, catching up to his foe. He clutched the man by the collar of his robes. "You who would kill my wife!" He shoved the man to the stone wall next to them.

The impact cracked the wall and left a bloody corpse. He examined his hands; how had his strength returned? A week after moving into their house, their powers had vanished, and they became mortal. That had been over a year ago. His leg and abdominal wounds were almost healed. He made his way back home.

"Are you alright?" He asked. Suddenly, his leg ached. "What in…?"

She held him. "How are your wounds?" A pair of nasty scars had partially developed. The bleeding was minimal. She looked up. "Your powers?"

"They returned when I was out chasing him," he said. "My pain was gone. Now it's back."

"Maybe it isn't just the first time we pair up," she thought out loud, "but _each time_ we do that we lose our powers?"

"Why would the gods do this?"

She racked her brain for an answer. "Maybe so we can choose to die if we want," she said. "If we find life to be pain, we join up with our partner and then we can die."

"I suppose," he said. An unfortunate implication came to him. "So, if one of us happens to lose our partner, that one will be cursed to walk the Earth, alone, _forever_?"

She shook her head. "That would certainly be terrible," she said.

They journeyed for a few more decades, travelling by air, by staying as far apart as they could be while still able to see one another. They settled in northern Europe, in a forested area that looked familiar to her. They made their living off the land. Once again, however, it would not last. Violence between the Celts and various other tribes of man, this time with iron weapons, spilled across their path. They left, separately, before any possibility of losing each other permanently emerged.

They travelled the world separately for what seemed like eons. She fought both with and against Roman legions at various times. Every time she returned to try and live to the end of her life with her dark-skinned love, violence would come between them. His life apart from her seemed fraught with pain and war. He would subvert the worst carnage. His attempts to be an outsider to war meant he constantly had to rescue the innocent from one invading force or another. He attempted to take other lovers to fill the void in his heart—and she did the same—but it never meant anything to them and they stopped doing this altogether after a while.

Everything changed when she found her way to the far east again. She'd never cared to learn about the monks; she'd spent too much time with the warriors and the teachers. The monks didn't know what to make of her, but they taught her the secrets of various eastern mythologies she devoured with the eagerness of a child swimming for the first time. Meditation, she initially thought, would turn out to be just a means of focusing on herself. What happened when she got good at it, would change her life.

She sat in a silent room of stone, only the dimmest of light from a single candle emanating around her. With crossed legs, she closed her mind off to everything except her self and all it entailed. Long moments passed, and she felt a familiar sensation. Within her, forces tore at and fed off each other. A rumbling force deep within her appeared as the shifting sand, the stone that built temples, the iron that stood strong. A power, she saw, represented as the Gift of the Earth. All god-like beings were strong, but only those with the gift of the Earth could move the very foundation of the world itself. Like iron, they could hold strong; like stone, they could stand firm. The other power present in her, made itself known in the form of lightning. It appeared as branching paths of bolts coursing through the sky and towards the ground. She saw the power that was one of the Gifts of the Sky, the Gift of the Storm. All god-like beings could shift the weather with their will and, occasionally, their moods, but only those with the Gift of the Storm could charge the air with electricity, bolts powerful enough to split mighty trees into splinters and melt stone on contact.

This new information changed her perception. Finally, she had some answer for what she was. The gods had not acted at random; although they took a hands-off approach to human history, she finally understood why she could do things her love could not, and why he could do things she could not.

A few years later, she left the temples and her love arrived, drawn by a sensation he could not explain. She saw his arrival but would not interfere by making herself known to him again. He learned much from the monks. Sadly, she noticed, patience and calm were not among them. He possessed the Gift of Fire, the power of the eternal heat of the Sun, and the fury that consumes all. It explained why he had a unique propensity to cause destruction wherever he went, and why it took him far longer to stop destroying his clothes with his flight. The Gift of Fire grants one the ability to destroy anything they desire to destroy, depending on how strongly they focus on it. All god-like beings are capable of impressive feats of obliteration, but only those with the Gift of Fire can claim to truly reduce a thing to its constituent components. He also possessed, within him, a power represented by the flowing wind, the gales that blew villages apart and carried ships by their sails. The other Gift of the Sky, the Gift of Wind. All god-like beings are capable of flight, but only those with the Gift of the Wind can produce storm clouds of almost unbelievable force. Cyclones capable of hurling the biggest stones around like toys become child's play. Hurricanes that can reduce entire cities to timbers are possible. This knowledge changed his perception of his own existence forever. His power made him uniquely able to destroy things. It had been his choice to use that power to attack the negative outcomes of war. The gods did not control his fate.

* * *

Danny stopped, poured himself a sip of wine, and leaned back in his seat. "Oh, wow," he said. "That took a while. How long was I talking?"

Taylor checked the clock. "About three hours," she said. She pondered the words her father had said. "Fire and lightning, those were what I saw when I meditated."

He thought about the stories Annette had told him. "I guess that explains why you ruined so many sets of clothes," he thought out loud. "The fire you inherited from your father has to be focused or it just breaks everything."

"But the lightning, though," she countered. "I haven't discovered the ability to control electricity or shoot lightning bolts. And I haven't made fire appear, either."

"I don't think these things were ever _literally_ what they represented." He took another sip. "Hancock would change the weather on occasion, especially when Leviathan attacked, but I never saw her shoot lightning either. I'm guessing it's more a 'poetic' sort of thing." He squinted, thinking harder. "Now that I think of it, I _do_ sort of recall someone saying somewhere…was it on TV or the radio?" he shook his head. "Anyway, someone said that it probably would've been better if _he'd_ fought the Simurgh while _she_ fought Behemoth." He looked at the wine bottle. "I'd better switch to water before I start babbling."

She chuckled a bit. "No, you're doing fine," she said. "God, this is all so fucking amazing."

He sighed. "Yeah, honestly, looking back, I should've said it. I've covered about the most of it."

"The thing is," she said, "she never told me about this stuff, either. Maybe we could have worked on it."

"If I can hazard a guess," he attempted, "I'd say that she wanted to give you as much time as a child as you could have."

She smiled. "I'm just glad I have you to tell me about her." She thought of something. "Do you mind if we cut it short for a bit? I'd like to just meditate on this."

Danny splashed water on his face. "Won't bother me," he said.

She stood up and went to the bathroom. "I'll let you know if I make any progress."

After using the facilities, Taylor made her way to one of the back bedrooms and shut the door. The lights set dim, she breathed in and out. Focusing her thoughts internally, she pushed out everything else. Within her, the fire and the electricity surged past each other and throughout. Her thoughts went deeper. Her focus intensified. Soon, she could perceive her power at the cellular level. _Wow,_ she thought. _Before, this level of detail wouldn't be possible._ The two powers originated at the sub-cellular level, so she'd have to push even deeper.

With a great deal of mental effort, she pushed deeper. The barrier did not give easily, but with tremendous psychic pushing, she shoved her vision deeper, into the guts of her cells. The two gifts, her powers, originated even deeper, possessing each organelle first, then bleeding outward to the rest of the cell. The clarity with which her perception delivered simply blew her mind.

 _It's not enough_ , she thought. _Not nearly_. The wall, stronger than ever, prevented her search from going ever deeper. It frustrated her, this power, however strong, would not let her go down anymore. Her teeth clenched, and she didn't notice. Sweat beaded on her brow. Her body had begun to levitate a few inches off the ground.

Her mental projection she pushed with all available strength. When it finally seemed that she would get no answer, the wall broke.

 _Holy shit!_

Skipping several levels at once, she found her view down at the subatomic level. Electrons looked as far away as stars, while she saw the jostling nucleus of each atom. Power bled up from within the atom itself. From various points that would appear and disappear at random within the atom, sources of power would emerge and pour outward. She saw, something unique with it. The truth revealed itself to her, at least partially.

These were not traditional 'elements,' they were different powers from the gods. Ancient members of their kind had called it that for lack of a better term. From the power perceived as wind, flight and speed emerged. From the power perceived as Earth, there was strength and durability. From the power perceived as lightning, came electromagnetism and creation, for one needed the lightning for life. For the power perceived as fire, the all-consuming destruction and heat resulted. She possessed all of them, all her kind did, but not in the same amounts. Would she become able to manipulate _literal_ fire and lightning? Maybe, maybe not. What she did possess, however, was the gifts of each. And that meant she would be capable of unique acts of creation and destruction. It would simply be a matter of control and skill. She could feel what each represented, and the powers contained within, the way one recognized a memory. Another important detail came to her. They could be exercised the way one "worked out" a muscle.

 _Holy crap_ , she realized, falling out of meditation. _I've made a breakthrough_.

She ran out to the living room. "Dad!" she shouted. "I discovered something!"

He stretched. "Really?" He said. "That's amazing!" He checked his watch. "It's only been an hour and a half. Hell, that's shorter than you normally go for."

"These aren't literal, that much is right," she said. "But the biggest surprise is that the powers are able to be honed like skills."

He found himself fascinated. "Really," he said again.

"Exactly," she said. "You see, fire and lightning represent more than the 'element,' they represent creation and destruction. I can develop my power and become more powerful with time."

"So, why call them fire and lightning if they're not just that?"

"Because," she explained, "that's what they do. Life exists because we have lightning flowing through our nerves. Fire destroys anything it touches, but it can also be used to forge steel by destroying it and recreating it." She held up a coffee cup. "If I had mastery of the Gift of Fire, I could destroy this cup just by focusing on it or heat it up. It seems that these powers are all connected in some way."

Danny gave a surprised whistle. "You're just learning all sorts of stuff."

She shrugged with her hands. "I've been getting better at using my powers since I started meditating on them."

"I see that," he admitted. "They're all talking about you."

A quick stretch and she stood up. "You mind if I go out for a bit?" she asked. He shook his head. "Alright. I'm not sure when I'll be done."

He chuckled. "Just remember we have to close up before we go home."

* * *

She stepped out into the chill Sunday evening air. From the cabin to the house back in Brockton Bay took only a short jaunt, and she found herself inside her bedroom once again. The computer blipped on as she loosened her makeup kit and started applying it, this time a bit fainter than she had when she was confronted by Alexandria.

 _Nothing terribly new_ , she noticed, reading up on the latest local news. _Same old gang wars, the Undersiders robbed a bank,_ she thought as she read the pages. She paused. _Mayor Alcott's neice's been kidnapped?_

Her next layer of makeup went on as she read the news. Based on the reports, it seemed the girl, Dinah Alcott, was kidnapped the same day, only few days ago, that the Undersiders robbed the bank. Were the two incidents connected? She had to know.

After finishing her getup, she left the house and travelled towards the docks. Rumors had passed repeatedly down the chain that their hideout stood somewhere among the dilapidated buildings left in the wake of an economic apocalypse. Once she got there, however, she quickly realized that the number of candidates had not been mentioned. This would take a while.

 _Shit,_ she thought. She tried using her meditation to sense life force, but quickly discovered she could only sense her own. _Well, that didn't work._ _I'm not a Dragonball character, apparently_.

A wasp landed on her. It crawled around for a few moments and then attempted to sting.

"Hmm?" She held the arm up to eye level. The insect attempted to sting again. She felt the light touch of the tiny needle as it failed to pierce her skin. Instead of flying away, the insect kept going at it. "The hell?" She thought out loud.

She closed her eyes, and focused. She could feel the faint life force of the insect because it was touching her skin. She pushed a tiny piece of the flame up through her body and into the insect.

The wasp did not catch fire. It simply made a quiet whoosh and turned to a miniscule pile of ash on her arm. She brushed it away. _I guess I'm not crazy; it does work_.

Insects and other creepy crawlies made their way in her direction. She only noticed it as she turned her head towards a red brick factory that had been abandoned. "What in the…?" She could faintly tell the insects were coming from that general direction. She took off from the roof she had landed on and flew towards the factory, zooming over the cloud of insects at breakneck speed. She punched through the chained entrance head-first like a cruise missile leaving a pile of twisted metal door parts and links of broken chain lying on the ground.

"We have to talk!" Taylor shouted. "Call off the bugs!"

She could identify Grue, Regent, Tattletale, and…Bitch, was it? These were the ones who robbed the bank, sure enough. What she couldn't identify was the person wearing the black and grey bodysuit plated in what looked like insect exoskeletons.

"And give up the advantage?" Grue said. "Not a chance."

"I'm not here to fight…ergh!" Taylor had almost finished a sentence when several bugs flew into her mouth. They were definitely being controlled, she realized, as they made their way into her throat. The sensation she would never forget as she hacked and sputtered. She didn't have to breathe, but the feeling both pissed her off and made her eyes water.

As bugs coated her body, her thoughts went internal. _Lightning. LIGHTNING!_ Almost on cue, a mighty bolt travelled from her flesh throughout the cloud of insects. It sounded like popcorn popping as she cleared the air around her. She would have used fire, except using it in all directions would have meant she'd be standing in front of them naked. She balled her right fist up, placed her left hand flat behind it, and gave herself the Heimlich. The blow echoed through the building and the force of wind from her lungs ejected the ball of insects from her throat.

Before another thing happened, she burst forward faster than sound and clasped her left hand tight around the bug girl's neck. "Do that shit again," Taylor said. "Just you _give me_ an excuse."

"Woah, woah!"

Everyone turned to see the source of the cry. It was Tattletale.

"You know her?" Regent asked.

Tattletale shot him a look. "You can't tell? Seriously?" She said. "I mean, listen to the voice."

Regent looked again. "What do you…" He stopped and cocked his head. "Are you…Hancock?" He blinked. "Wow, that's a really good makeup job. I didn't notice it was you at first."

"How many other teenage girls her height and build can fly like that?" Tattletale asked.

Grue folded his arms. "I figured," he admitted, "but I wasn't about to say anything."

"She's not here to fight," Tattletale said. She turned to Taylor. "Geez, I'm sorry about that."

Taylor released the bug girl. "I'm fine," she said. "More of an irritation anyway. Wouldn't have worked."

"So," Grue said, "what _are_ you here for?"

"The news says the night you guys robbed the bank," Taylor explained, "Dinah Alcott was abducted. This may come across as a stupid question, but did you guys have anything to do with that?"

Tattletale flinched ever so slightly. "No," she said, her expression revealing no lies. Taylor noticed her flinch. "We had no idea that was going to happen."

"Front page news," Taylor said. "You guys are buried somewhere in the back. I can't imagine the events are unconnected in any way."

Grue stepped forward. "Let's say you're right," he said. "What are we supposed to do about it? We're not exactly going to go snooping around doing detective work."

"Here's what you're _going_ to do," Taylor insisted. "If you happen to find out any remote detail of any kind, any clue happens to fall into your lap, any detail appears before you, the information will come to me. Understand?"

"What's in it for us?" Regent added.

Taylor turned to face him. "I don't work explicitly for the PRT," she said. "I just might happen to have bigger things to deal with when you guys are out doing something less than legal."

Tattletale folded her arms. "I suppose that's the best we're going to get," she thought out loud. "Your offer will be considered."

"One last thing," Taylor asked. "Where the hell did you get the bug girl?" Before they had a chance to speak, she lunged forward and removed the headpiece from the girl's costume. The face looked fleetingly familiar. "I think I know you." She stood back a moment in semi-stunned silence. "I definitely know you."

Tattletale had been about to say something when the mask came off. She let out a dejected sigh. "That's our newest member," she explained. "Skitter. She was crucial to the bank heist."

"I always thought you were kind of meek," Taylor admitted. "Oh, what the hell is your name…" It came to her after a moment. "Charlotte?"

Charlotte let out a sigh. "Yup."

A thought occurred to Taylor. "How the hell did you trigger?"

That question hit a bit harder than Taylor expected, going by the look on the girl's face. Tattletale was about to say something when Charlotte held up a hand to stop her. "No, I've got it," she said. She took a deep breath to steel herself. "Sophia Hess, she shoved me into a locker. It was…" There was a long pause. "Nasty."

Taylor's fist clenching made a sound loud enough to be heard. "Really," she said, a bit of gravel to her voice. "I'm terribly sorry to hear that."

"It's been going on for a while now," Charlotte said. "I'm just trying to do the best I can." She let out a chuckle. "Would you believe I was actually going to be confronting Lung when you showed up?"

That sobering thought snapped Taylor out of it for a moment. She tried to imagine someone with bug powers fighting off Lung. _Yeah, not happening_ , she concluded. "You pulled off a bank robbery," she thought out loud, "with what you have here? And the Wards showed up? Color me impressed."

"Came through in a pinch," Grue added. "So, you're _really_ not going to fight us?"

"Unless they're a serious piece of shit," Taylor explained, "don't kill anyone. Don't make life more miserable than it needs to be. I'm only going to go after you if you become such a problem that my life would be considerably better without you guys in it. I'm not fond of you guys. At the same time, you're not the ABB or the Empire."

Charlotte tilted her head right and left a moment. "Wait," she said. "Taylor? Hebert?"

Taylor saw Tattletale's expression change and could picture the gears turning. _Son of a fucking fuck,_ Taylor thought.

Tattletale was the first to jump. "Don't worry, we're not stupid enough to pick a fight with you," she said.

Taylor let out a breath through grit teeth. Sure, she expected the info to get out, but not like this. "That makes me feel so much fucking better," she said. "Now your boss knows about me."

Regent turned his head. "How do you know we have a boss?" He said.

Grue shot him a look. "God damn it, Regent!" He swore.

"I didn't," Taylor admitted.

She flew away before any more trouble could brew. On the way, she thought about Charlotte, and how a girl going to her school could get picked on right under her nose, and by someone as much a bitch as Sophia, no less, and she would find a way not to notice at all. Not to notice, she recognized, until _after_ it had reached such a tipping point that the girl triggered. She suddenly had the urge to fly to where Sophia was, shove her head up Madison's ass and punt the two of them into space, but remembered that prison was a thing that existed. _I'm going to fix this_ , she thought. A chilling idea came to her. _If I hadn't been born with such incredible powers, that could have been me_. The idea of how extraordinarily lucky she had been simply by accident of who her parents were weighed on her.

As she flew back towards the city, an explosion caught her attention. A few miles away, she found a billowing cloud of smoke emanating from a dealership garage. She landed, a pair of thieves were attempting to steal several expensive cars. They were dressed like Hammer Brothers from Mario.

"Christ," Taylor complained. "It's Uber and Leet."

"These suits are custom-made!" Leet said. "No impact can shatter them!"

"Ok," Taylor commented. " _Sure._ "

"We're not going to be made fun of!" Uber shouted, charging. He reached to his side pouch and drew a cartoon hammer. "Raah!" He let out a battle cry as he approached, drawing back the hammer and aiming for a blow. Taylor sidestepped, reached behind her, caught the bottom of the turtle shell, and flung upwards. "Ahhhhhh…" She never broke eye contact with Leet.

"Um, a strategic retreat is in order," Leet said.

Almost a minute later, several miles behind them, something made a loud splash in the water of the bay. Taylor approached Leet, and removed his cellphone from his suit pocket. She pulled up YouTube, and pulled up a video of wrestling commentary.

"Good god almighty!" The voice of wrestling commentator Jim Ross said from the cell phone speaker. "Good god almighty, that killed him! As god as my witness, he is broken in half!"

He took the hint and ran. Five minutes later, there was a knock on the front door of PRT headquarters in Brockton Bay. The officer would find a cellphone with a note attached to it, saying, "You're welcome. Hancock."

* * *

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 **Topic: Uber and Leet stream featuring Hancock**

 **In: Boards ►News ► Events ► America ► Brockton Bay**

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)(Original Poster)

Just minutes ago, Uber and Leet stream went live. I recorded the whole thing. Hancock arrived. I'm not going to comment further, just want everyone to bask in it. Entire event lasted approximately eight minutes and thirty-three seconds.

 **VideoSkunky** (Veteran Member)

OMG that phone bit. I'm dying. XD

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

That J.R. commentary tho. Also how stupid and lame do you have to be to get your own phone taken from you. EDIT: I know she's Hancock and he's Leet. The point still stands.

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member) (Cape son)

This is probably going to get me a rash of crap but she threw Uber like several miles. Do you think he's ok?

 **RunnerGunner91** (Veteran Member)

Am I losing my mind or did I see a shitload of bugs clustering around the dock area?

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member) (The Guy in the Know)(Original Poster)

I read from the official PRT report that was released to the public that the Undersiders attacked the bank with a bug-themed supervillain named Skitter.

 **DancingBabii** (Veteran Member) (Confirmed PRT)

Here's what I'm authorized to say: sometime between Hancock vs Lung and the bank, they recruited her. Her powers include manipulation of insects and other "similar" organisms. Anyway, back on the topic of this thread, Hancock dropped off Leet's cellphone at PRT headquarters after the fight.

 **xX_Void_Cowboy_Xx** (Veteran Member)

Is it my imagination or is Hancock wearing makeup? Also her hair looks vaguely different.

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

I don't know. How would you even tell? The other vids and pics are really low quality.

 **(End of Page 1)**

* * *

Taylor landed back at the cabin. "I've already shut off the water and prepared the heat and cooling for hibernation," Danny said. "You've just got to put the battery on standby maintenance mode."

"Yeah, sure," Taylor said, going through the steps in her head of covering and deactivating the solar panels.

"How was it?" She paused a minute at his question. "Honey, what's wrong?"

She took a breath and let it out. "I just found out a classmate of mine," she explained, "was bullied, triggered, and joined a villain group."

Danny came close. "Oh, kiddo, I'm sorry to hear that," he said, hugging her.

"I could've done something," she admonished, "if I'd only seen it happening."

"Now, you know you can't save everyone," he explained, hoping the cliché wouldn't wear out its welcome.

"I'm going to _try_ and save her," she countered. "Maybe I can't convince her to stop being with this group, but I'm going to _show her_ I haven't forgotten about her." She let out a stern huff. "That could've been me, if I'd been in her shoes."

"No, Taylor," Danny said, holding her to where she could see his face. "You had your mother's example and you inherited her drive and willingness to go out there and fight for good. You're one lucky girl."

 _I am lucky_ , Taylor thought. _And starting tomorrow, her luck is going to change_. Maybe Charlotte would go too far, and maybe she wouldn't. Maybe the Undersiders would stay away from being truly wicked, and maybe they wouldn't. But Taylor knew she had to do whatever she could.

"I'm going to show her I care," she affirmed. "Because someone has to."


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter Five**

"Alright, Pretender," Doctor Mother said, "this is key. This is our most ambitious experiment yet. We can't progress without you."

The cape shuffled his feet, nervously, left and right. "I don't know about this," he said. "I can't possess a corpse, and if she dies shortly after you revive her, I could die with her."

"This is our chance to change the world," she countered. "We can put a serious dent in the problems of the world if you help us. We _need_ you."

He let out a breath. "If anything strikes me as weird, I'm bailing. I'm relatively new to this."

"Fine," she said. "You've got a ten second window." She nodded to the man at the side of the bed. He reached under the gown and placed a flat palm on the chest over where Annette's heart was.

The corpse jolted. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Pretender took the initiative immediately. He vanished into Annette's body. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Contessa and the Doctor waited with baited breath. The seconds passed by. Beep. Beep. Beep.

Annette's eyes shot open and a gasp escaped her mouth. Pretender sucked in air like nothing before. With her chest heaving up and down, under the command of her puppet master, she wiped her brow and looked left and right. "Shit," Pretender said, coughing a few times. "I…can't really explain it."

" _Try_ ," Contessa said. "Give me a clue."

"I'm…awake," he stuttered. "I've never been so awake."

Doctor Mother tapped away at her tablet. "Not bad so far," she commented. "Try to explain in greater detail."

Pretender sat up in bed, pulling his back against the bedrest. "It's like…" He racked his brain. "There's the rumble of an earthquake inside me. Not _literally_ , of course, but I feel like I've got the power of the Earth itself in me." He clenched the fist. "And…thunder and lightning. I feel an electric charge within me."

"Earth and lightning," Doctor thought out loud. "Normally, you'd think of those as opposites. Fascinating."

"Then again," Contessa commented, "these beings are a contradiction, if you think about it. They can't be harmed except when they're close to _certain_ members of their own kind."

Doctor Mother reached over to the table and pulled out a syringe. It snapped in half against Pretender's Host's skin. They exchanged glances before she took a note of it.

"Indestructible again," Contessa noted. "Now that the body is alive again."

The Doctor checked her watch. "Almost a full minute and still alive," she thought. "Must need something to keep the mind functioning to keep the body alive. Also activates the powers."

"You mean the corpse wasn't indestructible?" Pretender stated. "Weird."

"We _are_ dealing with magic," Doctor Mother replied. "This isn't like the shards and Scion. These beings were made by…I hate to say _gods_ because that word carries…baggage."

"I mean, these beings made humanoid people who have such incredible powers," Contessa said. "Perhaps we're even dealing with more amazing abilities than what the shards are capable of."

"Didn't Hancock _almost_ kill Behemoth?" Pretender asked. The Doctor nodded. "Wow." He hung on the 'O' in wow for several moments.

"If it hadn't been for the Simurgh," Doctor replied.

"Still alive," Contessa noticed.

"So, what do we do next?" Pretender asked.

"We'll put you in action once we have some kind of clue as to how long this works," Doctor Mother announced. "We're not jumping the gun."

* * *

Taylor stepped out of class and headed to the lunch room. On the way there, she spotted a target that she'd intended to talk to all morning.

"Sophia," she said, catching her fellow student's attention.

"The hell do you want?" Sophia said, turning around.

"I need you to stop being a shit heel of the highest order," Taylor said.

Sophia tilted her head to the right, startled and increasingly pissed off. "The fuck?"

Taylor took a deep breath. She could do this the 'Hancock' way of doing things. Such would guarantee her a spot on the evening news and a visit by Alexandria. No, she thought. She would do this the 'Danny' way. Talking always came first in the 'Danny' way.

"You have this nasty habit of thinking life is…" Words failed her for a few attempts. "…a game of some kind. There are strong and weak. I'm here to tell you someone you think is weak is a lot stronger than you think."

Sophia folded her arms. "What the hell are you talking about?"

"Let me show you," Taylor said. She looked around. No one looked directly at either of them. She grabbed the cape by her shoulders and flew out of there at super speed, careful not to damage her. Her control was getting better.

Before she knew what was going on, Sophia found herself on the roof. "Fucking…!" She instinctively pulled away and prepared to activate her power.

"Fucking just _listen goddammit!_ " Taylor swore.

Sophia froze mid-step. She let out a slight gasp.

Taylor had a tentatively listening audience. "Think of the weakest person you know," she explained. "Do an internal audit. Who do you think is the weakest, smallest victim you know of?" She saw some of the gears turning in Shadow Stalker's head. "I guarantee you caused that person to trigger." She leaned forward. "Forget what I want to do to you. Imagine what they want to do to you. Imagine what you've unleashed."

The girl's mental gears turned. "Have I heard about _this person_?"

Taylor nodded. "If you've looked at the news, you've heard," she explained. "You just don't know it. There's a world of hurt coming to you if you keep this up."

"I can take care of myself," Sophia uttered. "I'm not afraid of people who can't fight their own battles."

"Look at me," Taylor said. "You can see me. If I'm going to beat the piss out of you, I will walk _right up to you and say it_." Her face spoke more than her words. "This person can kill you from far away."

"So," Sophia replied, "you're trying to scare me."

"I don't have to scare you," Taylor countered. "What I want you to take away from this conversation is that you pick on people because you think they're weak. I'm trying to tell you if you keep this shit up, you will certainly find out who is not weak."

"I see what the hell you're doing," Sophia said, collecting herself. "You're not telling me who this person is, so I have to stop fucking with everyone here." A grin appeared. "So, I have to stop fucking with you."

"The last time you fucked with me," Taylor said, "was years ago and you didn't pull that shit again." She reached into her pocket and produced a piece of jagged metal she had found in the bad part of town. "I let you get your kicks. I could've punched the shit out of you. Wanna know why I didn't?" She squeezed the jagged, twisted metal into what resembled a crumpled ball. It fell to the school roof, and her hand bore no scars. "You were a small-time annoyance to _me_ , and Madison kept up with it because I didn't put anyone in the hospital."

Sophia saw the fruits of her labor in the crumpled steel. "I get it," she uttered. "You're the girl from the Lung battle I saw on the internet."

"I'm very direct," Taylor said. "I don't sneak in, I barge in through the front door. Just ask the Empire. What I'm saying to you is, put your crap on the back burner so you don't create a supervillain you can't handle. It's not me you have to worry about." She grabbed Sophia by the shoulders, and the next thing, they were in a stall of the girls' bathroom.

Sophia said nothing as she saw Taylor walk away. She recalled pouring grape juice on a younger Taylor, and instead of getting a punch in the face, the girl had simply removed her glasses and glowered at her. Unlike the girls that broke and hung their heads like wet dish rags, this one had constantly looked on the verge of exploding. It bored Sophia after a while, never seeing that vulnerability. Now, she realized who she thought she stood above could have easily killed her. She took in a ragged breath and let it out. One of the losers she bullied had triggered? That could cause a problem. She knew of maybe six different candidates for the person Taylor talked about. This annoyed her. She hated not knowing, almost as much as she hated the weak. Now she would have to be careful. She hated having to be careful almost as much as she hated not knowing. Being a cape was supposed to be about exerting her force upon the lesser. She believed in the law of the jungle. These societal 'stipulations' bothered her enormously.

Taylor didn't know if her efforts would be rewarded with Charlotte being picked on less. She certainly didn't think that simply saying, "Hey, quit fucking with her or I'll beat the shit out of you," would work on Sophia. She found what worked for her was a combination of strategically standing up and alternately not showing interest. When Sophia poured grape juice on her a while back, she displayed anger but did not attack. Danny's advice sometimes pissed her off, but this one had worked, surprisingly. To only use violence proportional to what was given. Honestly, at the time, she felt it would've been best just to smack the shit out of her. But then the bureaucracy would get involved. So, Taylor had tried to be unflappable. No matter what happened, nothing got through to her. After an annoying few months, Sophia had found it boring to keep going. Her better sense told Taylor not to paint a bigger target on Charlotte's back.

"Hey, you're all over the news," a friendly voice said, sitting down across from her at the lunch table. Emma smiled and handed her the cell phone with the news displayed.

"Would you look at that," Taylor thought out loud. "Alexandria talking about me."

"Did you say you were working with the PRT?" Emma asked, digging into her plate.

"Haven't been back there since the trafficking ring," she replied. "I've been putting it off."

"Anyway," Emma said, taking a drink. "Do you want to go see a movie or something? Since you've been active, crime's been down, why not take the evening off?"

Taylor took a drink and worked on her food. "Yeah, I might," she thought out loud. She stretched and yawned. "My plate's been full lately." She tapped her fingers on the table. "Enough about me. How's things in your life?"

"Dad's busy. I've been working on modelling. Nothing major, just a few commercial spots for some BS teens clothing line in a department store ad." She toyed around with her phone a bit. "Look at that, the Boston Wards took down a group with possible connection to some Islamic terrorist group." She looked up. "Nothing really exciting for me."

"Sometimes, nothing exciting can be a good thing." Taylor cleared her throat as she finished her meal. "Hey, can I see your phone a minute?"

Emma shrugged. "Why not?" She handed over the cell phone.

Taylor clicked around in the browser. She saw several news stories of her actions and some opinion pieces. She wanted to see what the perception of her activity was from an outside point of view, and she found the status generally positive. The PRT considered her to be an independent cape worth respecting, although she noted they had some disparaging remarks, such as, "tends to ignore property damage, does not respect boundaries effectively," and some others she didn't care to read. In the 'related news' column there was a reported sighting of the Slaughterhouse Nine in lower New York, and someone in the comments had commented that they hoped Hancock would "deal with" them. She hadn't intended to do that. It wasn't a lack of desire, she figured, but rather, such a prominent villain group would require more than her just flying in and smashing. Finally, she looked up more information on the Undersiders and their activities, and nothing came up except what she already knew.

"Ok, here you go," Taylor said, handing the phone back.

"What you thinking about?" Emma asked.

Taylor shook her head. "Just curious. I'm keeping tabs on a few villain groups because they stepped outside the boundaries."

"See you after school," Emma said, going to empty her tray.

"See you," Taylor replied.

* * *

"Alright," Doctor Mother said, "It's been seven hours and nine minutes, and the body is still alive. Keep going."

In a combat room, Pretender, piloting Annette's body, wore a tactical combat outfit and stood amidst a pile of destroyed battle robots. The clothes had a few cuts and burns where lasers and blades had made it through, but the skin held. "Got you," he said. It should've seemed strange to him, being a woman, but he still thought of himself as a 'he.' He shook his head. Back to the action, he thought. The doors creaked open, and a series of droids gathered the ruined parts and took them back to be recycled into more and better attack weapons. A few more robots, these ones standing eight or more feet tall, with gripping hands and a multitude of weapons on each arm.

"Take a hit," she told him. Contessa looked at her. She released the button on the microphone. "What? We need to test the durability." She pushed the button again. "The droid is going to use a missile. Take a hit!"

Pretender blinked in surprise. "Al…right," he stuttered. He stood firm, pressing his flight in the opposite direction. The droid's chest plate separated to fire a projectile at him. The rocket zoomed out and a shield came up over the already-bulletproof glass of the viewing window. Doctor Mother and Contessa watched on a screen as the missile collided. A huge plume of smoke and a fireball extended outwards. When the smoke cleared, the shield dropped, and the two saw the burned clothes fall off an otherwise unblemished Annette. Pretender clenched his fists. "How was that?"

"Great," Contessa said. "Finish it!"

Pretender zoomed forward and decapitated the first two robots before anyone else could see. The third swung its arm. He blocked it and pulled it out at the socket and impaled it through the droid. He stood firm. "What's next?" Contessa and the Doctor exchanged glances.

"We take things to the next level," Doctor Mother explained. "The body is getting more powerful. Once we figure out a few more details, you'll be able to be the eyes and hands of our mission in the world."

Back in the examination room, Pretender sat down on the bed. "This is nuts," he said. "I honestly think she's more powerful than Alexandria."

"She definitely is," The Doctor said. "The issue is, she's also a valuable resource. We've established that you probably won't have to worry about time running out. What we must determine next, is, how are we going to best utilize your power."

"Should I leave the body?" Pretender asked.

Doctor Mother nodded. "Right now, we have to take more blood. Leave the body."

Pretender laid back, placing Annette's head on the pillow. He deactivated his power and left the body. Within ten seconds, the heart stopped, and the chest ceased rising and falling. The body became a corpse once again. "That is so…" Contessa said, struggling. The Doctor took out a syringe and made an injection and drew several more vials of blood.

"It's as messed up as you can imagine," Doctor Mother said. "The shards, the entities, they all follow certain rules. These…people…they don't." She looked at Pretender. "That's why they're our most valuable resource." She handed the vials to Contessa. "More fuel for the machine that drives the future."

"I'll get these to the lab," Contessa said.

"Send in The Artist," Doctor said. Contessa nodded and left.

Pretender looked confused. "Artist?"

"You'll see."

Within a few minutes, a young woman walked in, curvy with almost rainbow hair and dressed like a mix between a biker and a supermodel. Pretender examined her with more curiosity than actual interest, having to stifle a laugh at her out of place appearance. She looked at the two of them and at the corpse and shrugged. "Guess I gotta work with what I got," she lamented.

"Miss Worthington," Doctor Mother recognized, giving a half-smile.

"Please," she replied, "call me Candy. Or the Artist. I don't care."

Pretender pointed an accusing finger. "You're the one who made the disguise that allowed that one guy to get close to the Slaughterhouse Nine," he remembered.

"Ya work with who pays you," Candy said. "Especially if the pockets are deep."

"Nobody has deeper pockets than us," The Doctor said. "Now, what we're looking for is a semi-permanent disguise for our lady friend here." She motioned at the corpse.

Candy regarded the lifeless body. "Geez," she lamented. "I don't ask, but this time I feel like I ought ta."

"I think your powers won't be able to affect the corpse while it's alive." Candy looked at her, confused. "She's invulnerable when alive."

Dawning realization appeared. "This is that immortal chick that Simurgh tricked into fighting too close to her boyfriend," Candy realized. "I thought her corpse was almost pulp."

"We're _Cauldron_ ," The Doctor reminded.

The Artist whistled. "Right."

She sat down in a chair next to Annette's body. "Got my tools?" Doctor Mother motioned at a tray next to the wall. Candy pulled it close and got to work. "Just show me what you want her to look like." The Doctor put a printed picture next to the tray.

She began to paint makeup on various parts of the face. At first, it merely looked like makeup on a dead face. Within a few moments, however, Pretender had to do a double take. The facial structure began to shift. "This is a mock-up of the average face of a hundred different models blended together," Doctor said of the picture. "It's important she look like no one in particular."

"Right," Candy said, working her power. She noticed Pretender's amazed stare. "Because your boy here doesn't get what's going on, I'll explain." She turned back to the corpse and continued. "My power is, I can create new appearances. I can literally make someone look like someone else." She applied more to the forehead. "With normal makeup, it's just your 'better than Hollywood' appearance modification." She touched up the chin. "This is my special makeup. I can actually change the flesh temporarily."

"It's working," Pretender noticed. "I already can't tell who it was before."

"It wears off after twenty days," Doctor Mother said. "So, this will have to become a regular occurrence."

After a half-hour, Candy placed the final layer on the face, and her work was complete. The hair was then dyed with a complex dye made in Cauldron's labs, and a voice modification liquid was applied by Doctor Mother to the interior of the throat very carefully with delicate tools. "So," she said to Candy, admiring her handiwork. "We were right to have you get the daughter's attention. How's that situation going?"

"I got her thinking her makeup skills are fantastic," Candy said. "The power I put in her makeup needs replacing every twenty days, so I been her best friend in the disguise area." She recalled the conversations they've had. "She's a good kid. She wants to save the world. She's friends with a 'Emma' or something, and she's mad at this girl named Sophia she goes ta school with."

"I suppose that's a start," Doctor Mother said. "Is this Sophia a cape?" Gears turned. "Yes, that would explain part of her reluctance to join the Wards."

"She's talkin' about getting trained at the PRT," Candy said. "Or something like that."

"Talk about that when you see her next," The Doctor said.

"Need me for anything else?" Doctor shook her head at the Artist's question. "Then I'm gonna hit the road. See ya next time."

The Doctor looked at Pretender. "Time for round two," she said to him. She pressed a button on the bedside armrest and about a minute later, a familiar cape walked into the room. "Get ready, everyone." He reached under the shirt and placed his palm on the chest above the heart. Pretender focused his nerves. "Now!"

A jolt brought the corpse to life. Pretender disappeared inside Annette. Beep. Beep. Beep.

"Ah!" Pretender gasped, jerking to a seated position. "Jesus!" he took breaths. "I'm never going to get used to that." He shook his head. The voice had a huskier presence to it, still noticeably feminine, but perhaps a few years older than the face looked. He got up and walked to the mirror. He touched the face and felt flesh against flesh. It didn't feel fake at all; it was real tissue. "Wow, it's really weird. Very pretty, but…"

"Indistinct?"

He snapped his fingers. "Yes, exactly!" He proclaimed. "She doesn't look like anyone, and that feels…weird."

"You really feel 'in disguise,' don't you?" Pretender nodded at her question. "That's the point. We've created a new identity for you."

He turned to the mirror. Whereas Annette looked vaguely a mix between Irish and Scottish, with some English thrown in, this woman looked definitively Scandinavian. The hair, a sandy orangish mane, gave a very Norwegian or Germanic appearance. "That's different," he said.

"This person's new name is 'Loretta Hartigan,'" Doctor Mother said. She produced a tablet computer. "Memorize these details."

He looked over the fictional biography. One detail gave him pause. "Cape name," he read, one skeptical eyebrow raising. "Powerful Enforcer?" He had to stifle a chuckle. "Isn't that a bit absurd? Childish?"

"Yes," Doctor Mother said.

"Doesn't that sound like an old arcade game," he struggled for the name.

"Yes," Doctor Mother repeated. "Makes you seem absurd. Childish. Immature. We want you underestimated. We want people to make mistakes when they think of you." She approached. "You're going to _enforce_ our will using one of the greatest _powers_ we know of. We want people to laugh so they don't prepare for you correctly." She grinned. "You're a laughingstock right up until you absolutely demolish them for being unprepared."

"I…guess," Pretender stammered.

"We're going to set everything up," she replied. "In the meantime, you'll be working with Contessa."

Pretender took a breath and let it out. He was in this one for the long run, he figured. With Cauldron, there was never a middle ground.

* * *

After school, Taylor went home and checked the internet for showtimes for movies, and emailed Emma about the various possibilities. They argued about it for a few minutes until they both decided to see an action movie that had been advertised recently. Both expected it to be the kind of bad you enjoyed, which gave it a distinct edge against the other flicks being shown. Before she had a chance to send another email, a message came to her from Charlotte. "Can we talk outside the seafood restaurant five minutes from your house?"

"Sure," was Taylor's simple response. She let Emma know she'd meet her at the theater.

A short trip later, and Taylor stood in front of the modest seafood sit-down restaurant that served good clam chowder and average tilapia. Charlotte approached from a side street, garbed in a new looking outfit. It impressed her, even if the girl's look had been put together by someone else. The girl looked a mixture of confused and annoyed. "Did you intimidate Sophia?"

Taylor knew this would come. "Yup," she admitted.

Charlotte's arms gestured a "what was that for" motion. "Did you expect her to just stop?" she asked.

"So, what did she do?"

Taylor's question was met with folded arms. "Nothing," Charlotte said. "She _glared_ at me and walked away." Her eyebrows went up and down. "So now I know she's planning something bad."

Taylor shrugged. "Probably," she admitted.

"So, what the fuck!" Charlotte protested.

"In which case," Taylor added, "we deal with it. _Together_. Not separate."

"Oh _yeah_ ," Charlotte said. "That's a fantastic plan."

"Sophia is one of these psychopathic fuckers who has to be stronger than everyone," Taylor explained. "I put a chink in her armor. She has a fatal flaw in her idea: she judges things by the cover."

"The hell is that supposed to mean?"

Taylor draped an arm around Charlotte. "Here." She led her away from the restaurant. "She picked on me once. You know what I did? I didn't give her what she wanted. She wanted to see me vulnerable. I wasn't. She didn't see the emotion she wanted to see." She cleared her throat. "Now that might not work in your case, but it worked for me." A thought came to her. "I mean, after all, if you wanted to use your power and fuck her up, you've had enough opportunities."

Charlotte shot her a look. "Are you gonna feed me a bullshit line about violence only making it worse?"

"No," Taylor said, shaking her head. "Violence makes a lot of things better. At first, at least. Hell, it might actually work."

"You're really bad at this."

Taylor rolled her eyes. "Listen, what does someone like Sophia want?"

Charlotte rolled her eyes. "She wants to win every battle."

"No," Taylor said, shaking her head. "Somewhere deep down, she knows she can't. What she wants is a world where she can solve every problem with violence. It's the one thing she knows. So, she has ideas about who is strong and who isn't. Based on what? Appearances."

"And _that's_ going to help me." Charlotte cut deep. Her skepticism about this came from the fact that she didn't want anyone's help. She wanted to make this problem go away. She wanted these idiots who ruled the roost to get what was coming to them. Taylor's antagonizing of Sophia wasn't going to fix that. God, it was so easy for someone like her who had the kind of unstoppable power where no one fucked with her to lay on bullshit lines like this.

"Hey." She whirled Charlotte around to face her. "I'm not doing this for me. I want to help you. Nobody should have to go through the shit you went through. You might think I'm trying to fight your battle for you. I'm not. I'm just trying to make sure you understand."

"Why do you really care?" She gestured wildly in frustration. "What do you get out of this?"

"This world is a result of people not caring simply because they don't _have_ to." Charlotte's hands went limp at her side at Taylor's words. "I'm caring because I don't have to. Because someone should. Who knows?" Taylor gave a "what have you" gesture. "You're somebody. You deserve to be treated right. I may not have been shoved into a locker, but believe me, I know what it's like to be alone."

"But," Charlotte protested, "everyone respects you!"

"Everyone is _afraid_ of me," Taylor said. "It doesn't help that I use it to my advantage. Look at the PRT and the online message boards. People think I'm a loose cannon. When my mother died, nobody wanted to talk to me." She chuckled at the absurdity. "My best friend Emma avoided me for a while. If I hadn't broken the ice again, who knows what would've happened? I was completely alone."

"I…I'm sorry," Charlotte said, at a loss for words. "Someone like you, I honestly wouldn't have guessed."

"I'm not playing," Taylor said. "I want to help you. I can't force you to believe me. But you can ask me for help anytime."

"I…" She hugged Taylor to avoid crying.

Taylor held her tight. She knew that feeling quite well. The agonizing fear of being alone. The worry that things had turned upside down. Sometimes someone just needed someone to hear them out. In a sense, she knew she wouldn't have handled it any better were she in Charlotte's place.

When Charlotte finally pulled away, Taylor remembered the get-together. "Hey, I was going to go see a movie with a friend of mine," she said. "Did you want to come?"

Charlotte stepped aside a moment and texted someone. A few moments later, she looked back. "That's a good idea," she said. "They're not busy today."

"Good," Taylor replied. "Then let's go."

After a few minutes of walking, and some text messages, they found Emma.

"Hey, are we seeing…" Emma said, trailing off. "She tagging along?"

"Yeah," Taylor said. "This is Charlotte."

Charlotte shook hands. "Nice to meet you."

"Emma," she said.

"She knows," Taylor said.

Emma's eyes went wide a moment. "Really?" She looked between the two of them. "You've got to tell me about it later."

Maybe Taylor was right, Charlotte wondered. Maybe judging things by appearances was a bad idea.

* * *

Sophia paced back and forth. She'd decided, rather than going home, to find somewhere where she could be alone with her thoughts. The water rolled in and out. She stomped at the ground occasionally. At least once a loud scream escaped her mouth. How could she be so off? How could Taylor be this 'Hancock' that was so powerful? Sure, she'd left her alone, but that had been out of a lack of fulfillment. It hadn't been fear. At the time, she felt she was on top. She targeted idiots like Charlotte and a few other girls because they folded like accordions at the first serious opposition. It bothered her that one of these peons was an actual threat.

"Think of the weakest person you know," Taylor's words had been.

Sophia stopped mid step. Charlotte.

"Son of a bitch," she whispered to herself. _Really_?! Charlotte?

She screamed again.

Something was wrong. Something was seriously wrong with this picture.

How could someone so insignificant be anything at all?

This wasn't over, she figured. She would figure this out if it killed her.


	6. Interlude I

INTERLUDE I

The lightning and thunder crashed down. On the shore of southern Ireland, the battle lines drawn, a monster approached. Everywhere it went, the dead lay scattered at its feet. An armada of the most powerful capes in history only hoped they would be able to slow the beast down. The terrified legions of parahumans stood firm, if desperate, against the inevitable clash. At the head of the group, a familiar symbol of power gave her speech.

"Attention!" Alexandria said, shouting, her voice amplified. "If this is your first Endbringer attack, you should know what you're in for. This is Behemoth, also known as the 'hero killer.'" She surveyed the crowd and saw more than her fair share of crying faces. "His field will kill anyone who doesn't have enhanced durability above a certain point, so don't get too close to him. His power is unbelievable, to say the least. Shockwaves from him can level cities. He emits radiation that can incinerate in seconds. Furthermore, his roar is capable of shattering stone. He is the toughest, as far as we know, and this will not be an easy battle. If we're lucky, he won't get too far inland. Our mission is to drive him away with as few casualties as possible."

Legend approached her. "When is Hancock going to be here?" he asked, more of a morale boost than an actual question.

"You don't have to ask," Alexandria reminded him. "He has a habit of getting here on time."

The monster approached, shaking the ground and scattering the rocks with each stomp. Behemoth let out a roar, and the parahumans closest were scattered like flies. The battle kicked off with Alexandria propelling forward to take the first initiative. Legend and Eidolon moved in opposing directions to do the best they could.

"Any word on Scion?" Someone close to one of the higher-ups asked.

"Scion's not likely to get involved for a half-hour," the man said. "As far as the satellite data we got earlier indicates, he's currently dealing with a series of earthquakes in China."

"SCATTER! BLAST INCOMING!"

It didn't matter who issued the shout. Behemoth burst forth, propelling himself onto land and erupting like a volcano. A burst of heat caused the air to explode in parts and the heroes unlucky enough to not have heard the warning found themselves vaporized. The ground melted in parts and shards of rock shot up from where stone shattered like glass. Arcs of lightning shot in all directions, and more than one hero exploded from his tissues flash cooking.

Alexandria shot forward and caught the monster on his right side, pushing him away from the largest crowd of heroes. Legend fired a series of lasers at the Endbringer as heroes moved into various positions. The monster stumbled a bit, using his power to orient himself and continue moving forward. A series of magnetic capes on the ground fired metal projectiles at the creature, but his power redirected them back to their source. A burst of heat melted a series of rock outcroppings, and a few heroes got caught in the molten rock.

Behemoth's head moved in a predictable pattern. "Shit! He's going to roar!" Again, it didn't matter who made the warning. The noise that filled the air ruptured ear drums and exploded eyeballs of close victims. The sound shattered windows dozens of miles away. At least one glass manipulator died at the hands of his own arsenal.

A distant sound of thunder revealed a brilliant dot of fire in the distance. Among the crowd, some knew already what headed towards them. "Hancock!" The dot grew larger at an incredible rate, revealing itself to be about the size of a man, and burning almost white hot. The dark-skinned superhero flew in like a space shuttle's rocket. More than a few had braced themselves already.

When Hancock impacted Behemoth, the shockwave more than rivaled those the monster created. Moving at what would later be calculated as "at least escape velocity," his body had caught fire from a combination of air friction and his own gift of fire. Those who could see from a safe distance saw a multitude of craggy projections get blown off the beast's hide. The blast knocked the monster out into the water. Behemoth skipped across the surface for almost a mile, kicking up enormous sprays before Hancock muscled him into the air.

Behemoth fired several heat bursts and shockwaves at him, along with a lot of lightning. Hancock grit his teeth and fought through the pain; after all, his tissues weren't getting damaged. "You are one ugly motherfucker," he said, smashing him upwards. The creature let out a roar and used his energy redirection to halt his upward movement. "Oh, _that's_ how you wanna play it?" He pushed himself down a bit, then zoomed upwards, flying straight _through_ the monster, tearing a huge gash out of the creature's midsection. The tissue gushed blood. He grabbed the section of the torso and pulled. "Son of a _bitch!_ " Letting out a roar of his own, he tore the lower half of Behemoth off. The legs fell into the sea with a huge splash. His fists white-hot with the Power of Fire, he began tearing his way through the body of the beast.

Behemoth let out another roar and unleashed a half dozen different bursts of energy on Hancock all at once. Fighting through pain, the hero's hot punches caused rocky projections to shatter, and flesh to explode from thermal stress or cook to ash in seconds.

The monster got a solid smack in from one of his enormous arms, knocking the hero off him and into the ocean. Smashing into the water, the beast swam down and the water around the two of them began to boil. A rocky fist smashed into Hancock, forcing his mouth open. Ocean water poured into the hero's lungs, irritating him further. Bursts of electricity jolted him in several waves. He tensed his arms to avoid his muscles jerking involuntarily. The creature pounded him with a massive shockwave.

 _Big mistake_ , Hancock thought. The shockwave displaced enough water to create an air pocket. He unleashed a punch like few he'd ever thrown. Behemoth got caught on the bottom of his head, which exploded in a blast of gore and rock. The force launched his body out of the water and at least a mile up into the air. Ejecting himself from the water, Hancock began to fly at dozens of multiples of the speed of sound, impacting Behemoth's body before he had time to react. Segments of the creature's corpse fell off in house-sized chunks.

The denser layers of the body began to become a problem. The impact of the punches began to cause cavitation in the air, and yet, layers were barely cracking under such force. He smashed his hardest punches against the ultra-dense material and it barely budged.

About a quarter mile up the shoreline, with the aid of satellite feeds and remote drones, many of the heroes watched as the dark-skinned warrior pounded away at the hard flesh of Behemoth. Many stared in awe at the sight of the mostly-skinned monster reduced to his inner, hardest layers. "He's stuck," Legend reminded. "He can't punch down any further."

A veteran of more than one Endbringer attack, Armsmaster, approached. "Shouldn't we be helping him?" Alexandria looked at him.

"Were you at the last one he arrived at?"

Collin shook his head at her question. "No, ma'am," he said, "I showed up but I got taken out."

"The last time we got between him and them," she reminded, "it only made it worse for him. These guys are on a different level."

Armsmaster turned away from his superior to look at the makeshift screen. "I hope so," he thought out loud.

* * *

In Brockton Bay, the front door of the Hebert residence flew open, the rain pouring down. Annette shut the door and threw her raincoat onto the rubber floor mat by the umbrella stand. She set her keys and glasses on the counter and turned to her husband and daughter. "I heard," she said, sitting down. "How is it going?"

"We've got live coverage from the site," Danny said, wrapping an arm around Taylor. "He's really demolished Behemoth, but he can't get farther down."

They saw as the monster rapidly regenerated, right before a volley of blows knocked the regenerated material off the hyperdense inner layers. "John," Annette whispered, wrapping her arm around her husband and daughter.

"Is he gonna win?" Taylor asked, looking up at her mother.

"I think so," Annette said. She looked at Danny. "The problem is the core's way too dense."

"What bothers me," Danny said, "is that when you fought Leviathan, you did about as much damage to it, and it left about at this point."

She couldn't betray her feeling of concern. "Yes, and that's strange."

"I hope he kills it," Taylor said. Both nodded. "Are you gonna help, mommy?"

Annette looked at her. "I can't," she said. "Remember? We can't be too close to each other."

"A shame," Taylor said. "I think two together could kill it."

Just then, a horrifying sound echoed through Annette's mind.

* * *

A ranking PRT officer approached Alexandria. "Ma'am! We've got bad news!"

She turned away from the fight. "Tell me," she said.

"The Simurgh has just been sighted off the coast of Brockton Bay!"

Legend grit his teeth and shook his head, Alexandria sighed and clenched her fists. Eidolon looked at the crowd. "So, are all three of us going," he asked, "or is one of us going to stay?"

"Alexandria and I'll go," Legend said.

"This just keeps getting worse," Armsmaster said.

"You might get to be involved yet," Eidolon told Collin. "If Behemoth doesn't leave soon, this is only going to get worse."

"Behemoth's leaving!" Someone shouted.

Everyone turned back to the screen. "Why isn't he going into the water?" Eidolon asked.

The hero killer had plenty of ocean to disappear into if he wanted to lose Hancock. Instead, he flew over the water, propelling himself via energy manipulation. The hero followed him. Hancock simply knew this beast was headed somewhere populated. He'd fought this thing so many times before it wasn't funny. When the monster would run, because he simply lacked the strength to break through to the core, it usually vanished beneath the waves. This was a new strategy.

"The hell you going?" He shouted, more out of anger than expecting a real answer.

* * *

Annette's vision went blank for a moment, and then she saw a vision. Hancock over the water, impaled between the two Endbringers, Simurgh and Behemoth. His lifeless corpse hung from the monster's claws and the other's device. "No," she muttered. The psychic scream echoed through her mind. Horrifying visions of death and destruction pulsed through her like a radio transmission. She felt the pain of losing her other half as if it had already happened.

"What…" Before Danny could finish his sentence, she shot up to a standing position.

"NO!"

The house jolted as she took off. She hardly left the door on its hinges as she flew off. Her last shout almost knocked him over. Taylor and Danny were left speechless for a moment as they stared at the empty space where she'd been.

"Mom!" the young Taylor shouted. She hugged her father tight. "They can't get too close! Where's she going?"

"I wish I knew, kiddo," Danny said. Honestly, he was scared shitless. He had a terrifying feeling that this was some kind of trick.

Annette saw the Simurgh hovering five miles off the coast of the Bay. Ignoring all common sense, she slammed into the Endbringer at tremendous speeds. She sent the thing reeling. As soon as it righted itself, it moved in a zig zag pattern backwards to the left. _No, you don't_ , she thought, pressing the attack. She had the strength to end this monster, she believed. In the past, this beast had used various forms of psychic attacks to escape, but this time, Annette swore, she would end this creature.

"Stop running and fight me!" she shouted.

Alexandria and Legend arrived within sight of Brockton Bay. They saw their target, hovering off at a relative distance to another target.

"Is that…?" Legend trailed off as he recognized the woman, hurling punches at nothing in particular. "Oh hell."

Alexandria let out a sigh. The ex-wife of Hancock wasn't actually hitting anything except air. Which, as facts go, meant only one thing. "Now we know why the Simurgh came here," she said.

"So, what's the goal of," Legend said. Then his eyes went wide. "Oh hell!"

Alexandria realized the same instant. "We have to go! Now!"

The plan seemed so straightforwardly effective, the two of them almost had to give the Endbringer credit. Legend took off ahead in a desperate attempt to reach Hancock before the worst could happen.

Alexandria flew into the direct path of her unwitting enemy. "Stop," she shouted. "You're being used!"

Annette clenched her fists and her serious expression grew darker. "So, _now_ you decide to stop running and fight me, Simurgh," she said.

"Son of a…" Alexandria barely had time to register a sigh before being struck with the hardest blow she'd ever taken. She impacted the water like a cruise missile and in an instant, had a hand around her neck while a fist pummeled her. Her head went under the water and she sputtered a few times.

Alexandria head-butted Annette high into the air. She coughed up a mouthful of water and pressed the attack. Anything to keep the two apart. Boxer's jabs to the body and face drove her foe back. This was bad. The Simurgh had always been a clever bitch in the past, but if they lost either of the two, they'd lose some of their best weapons against these monsters. If the psychic attack had succeeded to this extent, who knew what would be in store next.

The helmeted hero grabbed her unwitting opponent by the collar. "Snap out of it!" she shouted, possibly in vain. "You're being tricked!"

Annette saw the Simurgh in front of her. The monster wrapped its hands around her. She shoved the hands to the side and delivered a solid right hook to the temple. A piece of something fell off and splashed in the water. She didn't listen to the bizarre noises the Endbringer made, she just knew to fight back.

After taking another hard punch to the face—which shattered her helmet—Alexandria changed tactics and flew head-on into her opponent, driving up at the last minute and slamming a knee into the woman's stomach. She bashed her foe in the head repeatedly. Maybe blunt force would have some effect.

* * *

Legend arrived to see Hancock knocking pieces of regenerated flesh off the core of Behemoth. "Hancock!" he shouted. "Get out of here!"

"Legend? What the f…?" Before he had a chance to finish, the core slammed him out of the way and plunged into the water. He shook his head and faced the hero. "What the hell's goin' on?"

"Just get the hell out of here now," Legend said, flying close. "Simurgh's got your ex-wife under psychic control. Trying to lead her to you. Just fly out of here."

Hancock's fist clenched. "That fucking…!"

"No!" Legend argued, approaching. "Please. Just get out of here. You two are far too important."

Hancock grit his teeth. "They're gonna pay for this," he said. He flew away in the direction of the beach.

* * *

The Simurgh suddenly moved away from Annette. She looked off into the distance and saw the monster zooming off into the distance. She took off at full speed.

Alexandria saw that Annette no longer saw her as the Simurgh. When her attention suddenly changed, and she sped off, the triumvirate member cursed under her breath and took off. _Of all the lowdown dirty…!_ Her thoughts raced as she desperately sped off to try and catch up to the hero. This had to be one of the worst things that could happen. These people had one weakness and the Endbringers found a way to exploit it.

Hancock heard a sonic boom off in the distance and turned his head. His exceptional vision allowed him to see what he had hoped not to see. Annette and he had made a pact never to be within the same city at the same time. Then again, the Simurgh was capable of some nasty mind fuckery, and he didn't know how well he could stand up to it himself.

Annette approached the target. Simurgh fled onward. As she flew, the creature flew faster. She wasn't about to let up.

Hancock pushed himself even harder. He felt the wind begin to feel cold against his skin. Dammit, he thought.

Behemoth burst forth from the water, partially regenerated. He caught Hancock right through the torso with a spiky obsidian fist.

The illusion dropped just as the real Simurgh approached from behind. Annette looked as the image of the Simurgh disappeared and she saw the horror unfold before her.

"Oh…god…no…"

She barely had time to react before a telekinetically assembled weapon impaled her through the chest and got Hancock as well. Her blood splattered on him and she hung limp.

Alexandria and Legend arrived a few moments too late to do anything.

"No! NO!" Alexandria screamed.

Legend simply closed his eyes and wiped a tear away. Then he regarded the two Endbringers. As if to emphasize their victory, they separated, allowing the two corpses to fall into the water, and they vanished beneath the waves.

* * *

"Why? Why dad?"

Danny looked down at his daughter. He shook his head. He had no answer to her question. She'd lost, in one evening, her mother and her birth father. He hugged her to his chest. "I don't know," he said. "I wish I did."

Taylor wiped her face on his suit shirt. "She would have never died if it wasn't for those…bastards!" she swore.

Danny's first instinct was to chastise her for language, but he couldn't bring himself to. "I'm not going to let go," he said. "I loved your mother and I'm going to do whatever I can for you."

Taylor shook the sobs out of her face. "I can't lose you too."

"When I married your mother," he explained, "I signed up to be your father. I made that decision. For what it's worth, I may not be indestructible, but I will not abandon you."

"Those monsters are gonna pay for this," Taylor said.

Danny looked down at the rage building in his daughter. She wasn't speaking of some vague notion of karma or hoping out loud. "I know," he said.

The priest, having finished his speech, made one final mark of the cross over the gravestone, gave Taylor and Danny his thoughts, and left. The personal friends and coworkers had gone their separate ways, and the two of them at last stood alone over the grave. Taylor knelt and placed her hand on the freshly disturbed dirt. "I will destroy them," she whispered.

"Honey, you mind if I say something?" Danny asked.

Taylor stepped aside. Her father knelt and looked at the stone. "I don't know what happens next," he admitted, "but I am not going anywhere. If you can hear me, be sure, I'll take good care of our daughter." The whole time, he'd kept from crying, but at last, it came out. "You hear me? I'm not going anywhere."

The two of them embraced, crying on each other's shoulders.

* * *

"….a.k…e…up…"

As if waking from a dream, awareness returned.

"Wake up," the voice repeated.

Annette's eyes opened and she looked around. A great hall with a domed ceiling rose all around her. Beings made of various forms of energy sat in a circle, seated by the walls. Some of them looked more human than the others. She stumbled back and corrected herself, using her arms for balance. "What…?"

She happened to look down and see herself garbed in a robe of bluish hues. "Vo'lai," a voice said. She looked up and saw where it came from. A pulsating body of a plasma-like energy sat in a seat against the wall, looking down. It occurred to her that her mind was hearing the words and translating, not actual sound. "Your journey has been cut short. You are here because your physical body has died."

The events prior came to her. "No! My family!" she argued. "My daughter!"

"It seems your daughter is capable," another being said.

"But I can't leave them!" Annette argued. Her fists clenched. "I…I was tricked!"

"Vo'lai speaks truly," a third argued to the group. "The mortal weakness we built in to provide them a way to end their lives; it was not intended to be used this way."

"Please," Annette said, clasping her hands together. "Send me back. Please."

The group mulled this over without her hearing anything. Finally, they turned to her. "Bringing you back poses a problem," it said. "We will have to…" It paused. The group turned to it, then seemed to all look upwards.

The suspense was killing her. "What's going on?"

One waved a wispy appendage. The center of the room changed to a vision of the inside of a medical lab. Pieces of pulped flesh sat loosely gathered around each other on a table. "This is a strange occurrence," one of them remarked.

She recognized pieces of skin with birthmarks. "Is that…me?!" she uttered, recoiling.

They discussed it amongst themselves, once again without involving her. Then they turned to her. "This will provide you a way to return to life," one remarked.

Another pointed at her for effect. "You will have a long, difficult journey to return," it said. "We will not directly intervene on your or anyone else's behalf. Your husband, Yar'uhn, will not be returning under any circumstances. He has been moved on to his final rest."

A lonely sigh escaped her lips as she remembered all the beautiful times they had together. Still, only one thing mattered to her. "I will get to see my daughter again?"

"Certain."

"Then send me back."

The group dissolved the vision. "Not yet." One of them teleported from his seat to in front of her. His wispy energy body gave way to a form of flesh. "Your deeds have earned you the right to be taught, but you have much to learn. And you will not be given advance knowledge of the actions of your enemies."

"I can live with that," Annette said.

"Those who would resurrect you will spend several revolutions of the Earth around the Sun restoring your body," this man said. "They will exhaust nearly every resource at their disposal. They will even use your body for their own purposes. But when they are finished, you will return to life. This is all I will tell you of them."

"Fine. Teach me." A smirk appeared on her face. "After all, you said we have plenty of time."


	7. Interlude II

**INTERLUDE II**

The ranking officers of the Yàngbǎn sat in the situation room right above the control room where all the computers were. The response to the most recent attack from Obsidian Dragon in the north had been swift and brutal. The terrorist had evaded their efforts yet again, although this time, nothing short of his primary resource pool had been hit. What would follow next would depend on the actions of the new recruits working in the field. They'd acquired new talent courtesy of Russia and a few kidnapped Koreans, and the exercises were still being carried out. With their biggest thorn, other than the Protectorate in the decadent West, having lost his main compound, they full expected to finally nab the supervillain by the end of the third week of the new year.

"So, how are the new recruits doing?" One official said to another in Mandarin. "My division's processing the intel we got from the lair." He pushed his salt-and-pepper hair off his right ear.

"They've taken to the brainwashing easily," his colleague replied in the same language. "Looks like the operations are going to be getting easier very quickly."

Just then the security door leading into the chamber exploded off its hinges. The sound of security groaning in pain echoed through the hall alongside the sound of crumpled bits of stone scattering around the wreckage. The two officers swore in surprise and fear as they clamored to their feet and drew firearms.

"That won't be necessary," a woman's voice said, in American-accented Mandarin. "Mr. Zan Hu."

Mr. Hu responded to the mentioning of his real name. Upon the figure stepping out of the dust cloud, her hat came into focus and he grit his teeth. "You!"

Contessa grinned. "It's nice to be recognized," she said. "Don't do anything rash just yet, hear us out."

"Why, in all the worlds, would I do that?" Mr. Hu asked.

"Because," Doctor Mother said, emerging from the ill-lit rear of the room, "Your partner Mr. Yijun Kuang might want to keep his identity secret, and you as well." A third figure stepped out of the back, a feminine figure, vaguely Germanic in appearance with light, sandy hair. She dragged two grown men by the neck.

Both Mr. Hu and Mr. Kuang immediately recognized both men, one covered in wounds and the other covered in dirt and pieces of broken stone. The woman's clothes bore battle scars, but her skin sat unblemished. "Null!"

"Zero!"

Doctor Mother shrugged at the mention of the most important member of the Yàngbǎn. "What can I say?" she asked, rhetorically. "I needed a bargaining chip."

"You've got our attention," Mr. Hu said, in English.

"We brought our 'Powerful Enforcer' with us," Doctor Mother explained. "Along with, on her right, the most important member of the Yàngbǎn, who makes the power sharing possible, and on her left," She walked over and pulled a broken half-mask from the woman on the right. "An old friend of yours, Hui He Zhang, also known as the Obsidian Dragon."

Mr. Kuang looked at his confused ally. "But this is a woman!"

"Show them," Contessa commanded in Mandarin.

Light distorted around Obsidian Dragon and passed. Mr. Kuang looked down and saw he had Zhang's appearance, and she had his. "Impossible!" he swore, his voice sounding effeminate. Light pulsed again and they returned to normal.

Mr. Hu looked incredulously between the two of them, then back to Contessa and Doctor Mother. "Okay! We believe you. Now, what is it you want?"

"We'll give you back your Zero," Contessa said, "and also give you the Obsidian Dragon, free of charge." She pulled a USB flash drive out of her pocket. "In exchange, the General Secretary is going to announce, in no more than three months, an end to hostilities between the Protectorate in the United States, and the Yàngbǎn here in the C.U.I., as well as a full cooperation from both."

Both officers almost jumped in shock. "What nonsense!" Mr. Kuang shouted. "The government will not be swayed by this!"

"Of course they will," Contessa replied. "Because both of you have connections the inner workings of the party you're not telling the other about." She threw a file folder next to the USB drive. In it, there were pictures of both trying to sabotage the other. "Nobody survives without playing the game. Now if you don't want us to reveal the inner workings of the party, alongside a dozen other secrets we extracted from these people, along with a half-dozen or so important documents we could steal from this place with almost no effort, you'll get this done."

"Alright!" Mr. Hu said. "But take heed, this is tantamount to an act of war."

"If China and the United States goes to war," Doctor Mother said, "the result will be less catastrophic than what we're trying to prevent."

With a hand gesture from Contessa, Powerful Enforcer, a.k.a. Pretender in Annette's body, shoved the two captives forward to collapse onto the floor, sputtering and coughing. The trio exited through the hole where the door had been. "Don't take action against us," Doctor Mother warned. After they stepped outside, Contessa gave a glance at Pretender and he wrapped an arm around a woman hiding behind a section of wall and drew her closer. "Door." A hole opened in space, and the now quartet were gone.

Returning to the Cauldron compound, Doctor Mother immediately injected the woman with an injection gun and Pretender pushed her into a chair. The other three sat opposite her. "Alright," Contessa said. "The ruse worked. The woman they took, it seems they believe it was the real Obsidian Dragon. So, now you're out of there."

"I must thank you for that," Obsidian Dragon said in accented English. "However, I am now your prisoner." She pointed to her neck. "That is what this is about, correct?"

"We do horrible things, according to some people," Doctor Mother said. "But believe it or not, we're the good guys. Are you familiar with Scion?"

"Who isn't familiar with the golden man?" Hui He Zhang replied, rhetorically.

"We've obtained knowledge that he had a partner, and they were planning on using humanity as experiments for several hundred years, culminating in the end of humanity everywhere. We're still dealing with the remainder of their plan." Contessa paused to let it sink in. "Our mission is to protect humanity at all costs."

"I see." Hui paused, pondering. "Seeing as I am at your mercy, I will pledge my service to you."

"So," Doctor Mother said, "we're vaguely familiar, but please explain your power."

The Obsidian Dragon leaned back in her chair, gathering her thoughts. This question had come up so many times before, and people usually got the wrong idea. "I can swap aspects of my person with others, willing or not," she explained. "Powers, wounds, ideas, whole body if necessary, and all I need is line of sight." She looked past them at the mirror on the wall. "Pity," she thought out loud. "I enjoyed that last body of mine."

"Fascinating," Doctor Mother said. "That should prove quite useful to us."

"Your 'Enforcer' is the first person I've not been able to switch with." She folded her arms. "So, how did your possessing agent accomplish it?"

The Doctor and Contessa exchanged glances. "How did you figure that out?" Contessa asked.

"When I tried to swap powers with her," Obsidian Dragon explained, "my power informed me the body was occupied."

"How does that work?" Pretender chimed in.

"They gain a weaker version of my swap power, and my swap ability always comes back to me," she replied. "A day or two, it depends. I can't keep more than one swapped ability at a time, so I kept my subjects loyal by giving my unneeded stolen abilities to my lieutenants." She paused for a minute. "That woman you gave them instead of me, _that_ was clever. I honestly didn't think you could pull that off."

"As we've said to our detractors before," The Doctor countered, "we're _Cauldron_."

"So, what's on the agenda first?" Pretender said to Doctor Mother.

The Doctor looked at Pretender. "You're going with Contessa and picking up a friend of ours," she said, "and Legend is going to work with our friend over here in Brockton Bay."

* * *

Annette emerged from the fog of slumber to find herself somewhere between the living and the dead. Her eyes opened. Her hands moved, but her will could not influence them. Her torso moved off a bed she did not recognize, but none of her responses did anything. Her body moved of a will independent of her own. She could not so much as scream. Her hands moved over to flip a light switch. The bedroom looked very much like a hospital.

"Well, here we go," a voice, not her own, said. It sounded feminine, but different. Hands wiped the sleep out of her eyes and her legs stood her up. She couldn't so much as communicate with the person piloting her body. The legs moved the body to the mirror. A face not her own greeted her.

"What the fuck!" she thought, to no avail. The person lingered just long enough for her to see behind the skin. A power, specifically a shard's power, had created this new face over hers. "So," she thought, to no one, "they brought me back, and stuck someone in my body, and I'm just a passenger here?"

The person moving her around suddenly jerked their head in different directions. "The hell…?" they said, confused.

"Get out of me!"

The person, the name Pretender came to mind, moved her head slightly at the idea, but ultimately decided they had imagined hearing voices. "No more of that shit," they muttered.

Suddenly the door opened. Annette's face turned to see a woman in a stylish suit and wide-brimmed hat. "Who the fuck are you?" she wondered.

"Who the fuck…" Pretender caught himself. Where did that come from? "Who the fuck are we going after this time?"

Contessa caught the abrupt shift in tone and moment of confusion afterward. She would bring this up to The Doctor. "We're going after a Chinese terrorist and revolutionary called the Obsidian Dragon," she told him. "If you pull this off right, we'll snag crucial elements against the Yàngbǎn and force them to cooperate with the P.R.T."

"Right," Pretender said. "Almost forgot."

"Oh _yeah_ ," Annette thought. "Get the Yàngbǎn to work with the Protectorate? Good luck with that."

Pretender got his gear on and headed out the room door. Annette saw each item as he placed it over her body. "Seriously?" She wished she could shake her head. "Military cargo pants, a flack jacket over gray shirt and heavy boots? What is this, wrestling?"

In a much shorter time than she would have anticipated, they had travelled through a portal along with a black woman in a jab coat and arrived in northern China. The other two were placed near a hideout point behind a cliffside, and Annette's body went to work. She saw her flight propel her through a blockade, tossing armored troop carriers like beach balls, smash through reinforced concrete barricades, and reduce men to crumpled piles of flesh with ease.

After what seemed like hours of mayhem compressed into a few minutes, the roof was ripped off an inner chamber, and a feminine figure packed into an ornate shiny black bodysuit with a dragon mask looked up. The woman yelled something in Chinese. Pretender launched forward, and the woman dodged at the last second, stone floor exploding around them like gravel. The woman's eyes sparkled gold a moment, and Annette's vision went dark.

Light returned around them, except, distorted. A sea of pulsating colors in all directions surrounded two sections of what appeared a giant spherical room. Pretender stumbled left and right. What the hell had happened? Why was he in the mindscape? The last time this happened, he almost got killed by a particularly nasty host body.

"You!"

Pretender whirled around. What he saw almost stopped his heart.

"Oh fuck."

Annette was on him in a flash. Seemingly without movement, her hand wrapped around his neck. "YOU!"

Pretender fought with all his mental energy. This was bad. Never had a host been able to dominate him so. He'd fought back and won in all cases. Here, there was no fighting back. "Please, don't…" he pleaded, struggling, despite knowing the enormous gulf in mental energy. "I was just doing my job…"

Annette pulled him closer. "You use my body to kill indiscriminately," she said. "Serving your masters well." Her mental body's fingers began to meld with the flesh of his neck. His mental self began to be absorbed. "Do you have any idea what I did to obedient slave overseers?"

"No! Stop!" His mental faculties began to vanish. "No! Please! NO!"

His mental body began to convulse as it disappeared within the expanding flesh of Annette's hand. His final noise would haunt her until her dying days. At last, he vanished. Almost at once, the mindscape collapsed.

Her eyes returned control to her. Memories flew through her; Pretender's entire mental faculties became her knowledge. It almost distracted her from the fight still taking place. Obsidian Dragon tried to swap with her again. She dodged the line of sight and propelled forward and super sonic speed, impacting the ground in front of her feet first. The shockwave knocked the woman into the air. She reached out and caught the leg, pulling her in and clamping a hand over the eyes. "If I were you, I'd stop," Annette said in Mandarin. "You won't get a better deal from them than from me."

Obsidian's attention was broken momentarily. Her head jerked in surprise. "You're not…!"

Annette made a shushing noise and released her foe. "Play along and I'll try to help you." Obsidian removed her mask and handed it over. "Thank you." She broke it in half and handed it back. The woman hastily put it on, cutting herself a few times on the face for effect.

The other two arrived soon enough. Doctor Mother noticed the target subdued. "Good job," she said. "Now to get our second target." From there, they broke into one of the best guarded secrets of the Yàngbǎn. Annette played along and they acquired the member who was responsible for the power sharing. The rest of the game played out, with the two of them threatening the executives into cooperating with the Protectorate. Annette had to give it to them; it impressed her how they gave a fake Obsidian Dragon. They sat in the compound, and their newly-acquired ally explained how her powers worked.

"So, what's on the agenda first?" Annette said to Doctor Mother.

The Doctor looked at her. "You're going with Contessa and picking up a friend of ours," she said, "and Legend is going to work with our friend over here in Brockton Bay."

Contessa looked at "Pretender." She pulled up her phone. "Anatoli Yurenov, alias Cult of Personality," she explained. "We believe he has the ability to alter people's personalities by touch. He was Putin's bulldog for quite a while."

"God knows that's useful," Annette said.

Contessa looked up. "Watch the sarcasm!" she chided. "Don't forget your place in the scheme of things!"

"Believe me," Annette said, "I haven't."

"Pretender," Doctor Mother reminded, "you've been handed arguably the most powerful weapon in the world. You are not, however, a god. The more you diverge from our plan, the more you threaten the safety of the future of the human race. Never forget that Scion is ultimately the end of civilization as we know it, and here you are, smarting off and casually forgetting that you're of vital importance!" She huffed. "Anyway, Contessa, keep the situation under control."

"Yes ma'am," Contessa said. She turned to Annette. "Simple extraction. Go in, get him, get out. He's not a combatant."

"Understood."

What resulted was even easier than she expected. Yurenov didn't have a compound, and his apartment was, while well-guarded for an apartment, not intended to be defended against an assault of any serious effort. The man, it seemed, believed his capture by someone to be inevitable. They secured him and headed back to the base in less than an hour. Doctor Mother secured the man with an injection and squared him away in his room.

Contessa walked toward the meeting room with Annette a few steps behind her. "You're a huge service to us," she said. "I know you're antsy, but this is fire we're playing with."

"Really," Annette said.

"This woman's powers are so strange because they don't work the way every other power works," Contessa explained. "After all, among other issues, my Path To Victory can't iron out all the details of your involvement. We have to work in spurts."

Annette felt the new power she had. Ever since she absorbed him in her mindscape, she felt his ability as a presence she couldn't explain. Her power flowed through it, and how it would ultimately change or become different, she didn't know. What she knew, from his memories, however, was that she could now possess people like he could. On one hand, she had killed a man. He ceased being a separate individual, and his consciousness existed no more. What he had to offer had become hers. On the other hand, she could live with it for reasons she would worry about later. She took a few steps closer. "Contessa?" she said.

Contessa focused on the next steps of her plan. She rolled her eyes. "Hmm?" she said.

Annette leaned in to whisper in her ear. "I'm _not_ Pretender," she said.

"Wha…?"

Contessa's shriek cut off mid-syllable as the powerful woman disappeared into her body. She stumbled a few moments before reasserting herself. Hands reached out and touched the face, and the hat, and Annette discovered she had, in fact, possessed the woman. She reached into the woman's pocket and found a pen. She extended the tip and pressed it against the skin of the woman's palm. The pen cracked and then broke into several pieces, clattering to the floor. The skin of the woman's hand was unmarred. "Isn't _that_ handy?" she whispered to herself.

 _Well, this has been a hell of a return,_ Annette thought. _Now, how do I make things right, sort all this horseshit out, and get back to my daughter?_

Six hundred and forty-four steps.


	8. Chapter 6

**Chapter Six**

The truck hit the pavement a half block from the P.R.T. crew. The officers approached, weapons drawn, making sure no active threat remained. They glanced up at the person who had tied the criminals to their seats. "Thanks, Hancock!" one officer cried out.

Taylor gave a salute at the mention of the hero handle she inherited from her biological father. "No problem," she said. "After all, you'll find all the evidence you need in the trunk and on the internet, thanks to the drones."

She flew away to the next target. The evening hung high in the sky; since sundown she'd given nearly eight major capes or groups of capes to the Protectorate that had been a thorn in their side. She still had a few hours to go. The drone had been Danny's idea; it made her job easier since she could make her actions known. It hadn't been easy to get, but one of the tinkers she knew was a fan of her work. She was about to fly down to a building and check the police scanner again when an explosion rocked a building near the warehouse district.

"Now, we just have to get Lung out of…" Bakuda had been talking to several ABB underlings. One of the men jerked his attention skyward suddenly, breaking her train of thought. "Dammit!"

As Taylor shot downward feet first like a broken elevator, her hands blurred as she knocked bullets out of the air. A few stray shots disappeared inside her hoodie. She landed, shooting a punch forward that bowled several over with a gust of wind. She reached into a container behind her and Taylor shot forward like a bullet shoving her hard into a brick wall. A headbutt cracked the mask and dazed her foe. Most of the underlings took a mad dash in any direction away from her.

"You've been going on a mad bombing spree for the past few days," Taylor explained, "and I'm not going to keep watching this. You're done."

The mask fell away in pieces. Her long black hair fell over her face and she pushed it aside. "Lung will be free if it's the last thing I do," she said.

"No," Taylor simply said.

Bakuda drew a device from behind her back about the size of a basketball. She lobbed it forward.

Taylor caught it and pitched it into the sky before it got halfway to her. It exploded high above the city. She glanced up to see its effects. She looked back at her opponent just in time to see a ball flying towards her.

It exploded.

The kinetic energy focused outward like a battering ram, instead of spreading in all directions. It channeled into a small shockwave about a foot in diameter. It hit with the power of a cruise missile, blasting Taylor clear through one building after another. Creating a hole through the last warehouse wall, she skipped across the pavement like a stone on a river, and smashed into the trailer of a semi, flipping the entire vehicle in a spectacular display of noise. Finally, she plowed through an abandoned apartment, before coming to land in a dirt pile in someone's back yard.

"Ergh," she uttered, climbing to her feet. One of her shoes had flown off. The apartment she went through collapsed. The semi's trailer, now on its side, swiveled back and forth, as it had been bent into a C shape. As she coughed, the lower part of her shirt front and half the back of her hoodie fell off in clumps. "Son of a bitch!"

She took to the sky. Flying to where she'd been, Bakuda had fled, although she couldn't have gotten far. Above the area, her heightened vision trained on the alleys and side streets nearby. Moving at speeds that froze hummingbirds in place, she examined every possible alley in a quarter mile radius. Somehow, this woman had vanished.

"How in the hell…?" She shook her head. The ABB had forces she hadn't anticipated. That's the only possibility she could imagine. Either that, or their escape vehicle had been incredibly fast. She managed to recover her shoe. After several minutes, she managed to interrupt several muggings in progress, and stopped at least one carjacking. Honestly, not getting Bakuda annoyed and confused her, but she had bigger things to deal with. The Boston P.R.T. had requested her assistance in breaking up a drug cartel. She took off in the familiar direction.

On the roof of a building, a team had gathered, along with a helicopter, and a few dozen P.R.T. officers. One officer threw her a jacket to wear. She replaced her shredded hoodie. A member of the Wards approached her. He had a mild complexion and a strong chin. His muscular build indicated strength that belied his young appearance. "You must be Hancock," he said, his accent strong. "I watched your videos online."

Taylor cocked her head just a bit. "Your face looks familiar," she said, "but I have to admit, you look different."

A chuckle escaped him. "I get that sometimes," he admitted. With a focused effort, he activated his power, and before her very eyes, his entire body went silver and gray, along with a few other shades. He noted her surprise; after all, he was used to it by now. "When I turn it on, it surprises people." He extended his hand. "My name's Weld."

Taylor hoped her gasp hadn't been audible. Sure, he turned metallic in front of her, but she couldn't tell him that wasn't what caught her by surprise. "Y…Yeah," she said, recovering. "I thought you were a Case 53."

"No, not really," he admitted. "It's just made out that way. Makes my story easier." He winked. "After all, you won't tell anyone, right?"

She laughed a bit. "Right," she confirmed.

"Anyway, we're gonna get you filled in on all the details, and you'll be on the front while we mop up the rear." She followed him towards the group as he began his explanation. What had caught her attention was that he possessed a very small piece of the same power that flowed through her kind. She could feel it inside him. Somehow, he had a tiny piece of it. That would explain why he wasn't a Case 53, and why he was able to turn his power on and off at will, but where had he gotten it from?

"So, I'm going to be coming in through the underground entrance," she said, repeating his words to her. He nodded. "Okay, I think I get it. By the way, how did you trigger?"

He turned his head. "Hmm?" He thought about it. "Oh, I'm not entirely sure. It's kind of hazy. I woke up near a scrapyard. You wouldn't believe how long it took to figure out how to turn this thing on and off."

"Ah," she simply said. This seemed strange to her. She looked inward at her own power. It was not retreating from her, meaning they weren't paired. _If the gods didn't make him_ , she thought, _where did he get the power from?_ A crazy thought came to her. What if someone had recovered a sample of her mother or father's blood? After all, the battle against Behemoth and Simurgh had claimed both their lives. She shook her head. No, no need for conspiracy theories.

The helicopter took some of the Boston capes and Wards farther into the city. She followed a instructed route to a tunnel entrance six blocks from the target building on the outskirts of the city. Inside the tunnel, she came across more P.R.T. officers and a few capes gathered with glowsticks out and minor armament. One cape came up to her. "Hi, I always wanted to meet you," the girl said. She had blood red hair streaked with yellowish-orange. "You beat up that Empire base."

"I did," Taylor admitted. "You are?"

"Firefox," the girl said. Taylor resisted the urge to make the obvious joke. "I know what you're thinking. 'like the web browser,' right?"

"I wasn't going to say it," she said. "After all, I've had people say, 'Hancock? But he was a black guy.'" She shrugged. "As long as we get through this, I'm not concerned with what people call themselves."

"We're almost ready," An officer said. "So, let's move out."

They walked down the tunnel for a quarter mile, seeing the light leading up from an access port. One of the officers looked up and gave the thumbs-up. The group snuck upwards, Taylor pushing aside a grating to see the rear of a warehouse where dozens of black SUVs were sitting while men of various origins loaded steel containers from one set into another. Taylor recognized a cape from videos on the internet. A brute she didn't recognize stood among the men garbed in protective gear and obscuring masks.

An officer leaned out of the exit and produced a small portable camera. Taylor's enhanced hearing picked up something on the man's earpiece, and the action proceeded quickly.

Weld shot out of a pile of steel rubble, flicking his power off and on rapidly, separating himself from the debris. He knocked a man into another using a tackle, and Taylor took that as her cue to act. Shoving the grating aside, she torpedoed into the crowd, absorbing gunfire and sending bodies into vehicles. One man clamored into one of the SUVs and tore off at breakneck speed. Two well-dressed men dashed towards the distance, but she caught them and placed them back in the middle. Then, a fist struck her in the side of the head.

She smashed into a concrete pillar. A large beefcake of a man threw off his suit coat and flexed his muscles, tearing his dress shirt in places. He grunted and charged forward, slamming his fist into Taylor and smashing her through the pillar. _Now I know you_ , she realized. _You're Rock Smasher_. She remembered hearing about the brute and his allegiance to the deepest pockets. She pulled his arm, yanking him towards her, and a fierce elbow smash that dizzied him. A left jab to the gut followed by a left hook had him on the ground. She collared him and flung him over her head to plant him in the concrete behind her. The entire structure shook. He groaned.

A P.R.T. officer shot him in the neck with a dart, and he went still. "We've got almost everyone," an older officer said. "You took care of the guy we were worried about the most."

Weld approached as the goons were tied up and a series of vans arrived to take them away. He deactivated his power. "Nice job. I hate to admit it, but that guy woulda been too much for me."

"No prob," she said. "Just let me know when you need help."

"I've been informed that you'll be paid at the Brockton Bay Protectorate office," the senior officer said.

"Thank you." She remembered something. "Hey, what about the vehicle that got away?"

"It's been tagged," Weld said. "The only thing they probably got away with was money."

Taylor nodded in agreement. She headed off. Flying above the city, she saw the roads leading out of the city, and found the vehicle after a few minutes of searching at super speed. It had left the main roads and was travelling by back roads with headlights off. It would be almost impossible to see for anyone without enhanced vision. It stopped more than once to change cargo with other vehicles. She flew out of sight for almost an hour, following the cargo. Her opportunity came in a section of woods about forty miles from nowhere. The vehicle changed cargo with a windowless van. Two metal crates and a body bag were placed in the vehicle. The SUV drove off. The driver of the van turned away from the van to smoke a cigarette.

Taylor took a deep breath. _Fast as fast can be_ , she thought. She pushed off at incredible speeds. She would have to move at unheard of velocities. The driver, frozen in time as she got into the van and removed the body bag. She carried it to the far end of the woods, unzipped it, and had to resist the urge to gasp. It was a young boy, no older than fifteen, with a shaved head and almost anorexic build, stripped to his underwear and a white tank top. She flew back to the van, landed behind the cases, and placed herself in the bag, zipping it up. The man's hand moved a quarter inch. She was getting faster.

He seemed to feel a gust of wind nearby. "What the fuck?" He swore, looking around. He quickly looked back to the van. Everything seemed in order. He got back in the vehicle and shut the door, starting it. He drove to another location. She waited in darkness until a series of hands grabbed both ends and carried her into another vehicle. Doors shut and an engine roared, and some minutes later, it stopped again. Hands grabbed her again and the bag was placed on a hard surface. Light entered when the zipper went down.

"Well, fuck," a man said.

* * *

Coil received notice that his delivery had arrived. The crew hired had been personally vested by him, and he made sure every person he had a history with. Each driver had been trained to carry out a specific set of instructions. The drug cartel he'd been doing business with were too close to defeat by law enforcement, so he would secure his cargo the only way he could. Tattletale had informed him of the exact crew that would be on the strike, and Dinah had given him the odds his gambit would work. Ninety-four point nine percent that he would get his money and cargo. The route had been kept secret from everyone. His spies had informed him of the safest route possible. Most importantly, he'd used his power to guarantee success. Nothing would make this turn out bad.

Sure enough, the van arrived in his secret base, passing through a maze of underground tunnels. He saw the van pull up and come to a stop. The driver removed several metal cases from the back. Sure enough, it had several million in unmarked bills in each case. The most important cargo of all, however, was the boy in the body bag. It had required a great deal of effort to acquire the child. This child would stabilize Dinah's mental state, allowing him to use her power to greater effect. After all, if she could use her power more, it would make her even more useful to him. He snapped his finger and she came to him.

"Went down without a hitch, Coil," the driver said.

"Good to hear," he simply said.

"Why'm I here?" Dinah said, an audible strain in her voice.

"Because I have to verify that my goods are undamaged," he explained. "A demonstration is required." He nodded. The man unzipped the bag.

A light streamed down. Recognition entered his eyes at once.

"Well," he thought out loud, "fuck."

* * *

A huge explosion rocked the outskirts of Brockton Bay. A dozen officers at the Protectorate headquarters rushed outside to see a huge fireball rising into the night. A man was tied up with metal chains outside. One officer recognized one of the two girls standing near him instantly. "Hancock!" he shouted. "What's going on?" The other face caused him nearly to fall over. "Is that?"

"Mayor Alcott's daughter," Taylor said. "Never mind that shit, there's a seriously fucked up thing on the loose, and it's already eaten a few people and made clones of them!" She flew off. She landed on a street that had been abandoned after the…creature had eaten several people. There was a girl at the center of this mass of flesh, but Taylor wasn't concerned about that. She saw the various animals emerge as pieces of the lower body of the monstrous cape. She zoomed forward, picked up a car and threw it at the mass of flesh. It tore a section of tissue loose, spraying bile and other fluids, but quickly regenerated. _Son of a bitch_ , Taylor thought.

A group of minor capes that had responded to the emergence of the new monster were trapped inside the creature. Taylor flew forward, dodging several projectiles fired from clones of capes. She punched through the protoplasm and grasped the hands of unfortunate victims.

A horrifying image of the death of her biological parents flooded her mind. Intermittently flashing between her efforts to latch on to the people absorbed. Her mother's screams would appear, assaulting all of her senses, then give her a brief instant of relief. _I'm not giving in_ , she thought. With enough time to wrap her hands around two unfortunate capes, she yanked with all her might. Noelle's body ripped open and the gunk-covered capes came free. She flew free of the clones rushing towards her and deposited them on a nearby roof. After seeing them cough and spit up goo, she returned to battle.

"You're…rrr!" The girl attempted to say something before a guttural screech took over. Something was wrong. She was prepared to fight a clone of herself, but when she reached in and yanked two more capes out of her, no images came to mind. "Grr….dammit!" The swear prefaced a strange light coming over Noelle. The monstrous teen clutched her head. Taylor yanked the remaining capes out of the protoplasm.

The clones began to utter gurgling noises and then combust into bright red flame.

"Oh shit," Taylor uttered.

She felt her power in the flames.

Her mouth dropped in horror as the entire lower mass of protoplasm melted away. A partially formed Taylor clone, forming inside Noelle, disappeared into her body. A brilliant light overtook the girl, and in a moment, she stood, seemingly normal in appearance. She walked with her newly formed legs, and flexed her hands, free of monstrous influence. Taylor felt _her_ power coursing through this girl, influencing and partially overtaking her shard.

"Are…" Taylor ventured, "you ok?"

"So…much…power…" Noelle muttered, feeling more alive than ever.

Taylor's heart sank. "God damn it."

* * *

Alexandria had just arrived at the Brockton Bay P.R.T. headquarters when the ground shook. "Report!"

"Hancock brought us Coil," an officer reported, "and revealed evidence that he had been responsible for Mayor Alcott's daughter's kidnapping. Then, she engaged the member of the Travelers dubbed Echidna in combat."

Alexandria cringed. "Well, isn't _that_ fantastic," she said. "What's gone down?"

He pulled up security camera footage on a monitor. She saw the battle unfold, where a few members of the Wards and some local freelance capes were absorbed and clones made, and then Taylor Hebert demolished several clones, and freed the capes trapped inside, to seemingly suffer mental assaults in the process. Then, using the contact to clone Taylor herself, Noelle's body reacted to the strange energy, influencing the shard, apparently, as the monstrous flesh dissolved and left the girl perfectly normal. Then she pressed the attack anew. This time, with incredible powers.

* * *

The fist knocked Taylor through a warehouse. The enormous roof collapsed on her, and she rocketed out of the rubble. Noelle arrived in an instant. "Wait, why are you fighting? Aren't you back to normal?"

Noelle laughed. "Normal?" She shook her head. "Normal is gone. There's no such thing as normal anymore. My life is over. I'll never see home again."

Taylor's jaw hurt more than normal. She'd gotten hit hard before, but this wasn't…blood. Her eyes went wide. Her hand went to her lip and came back with blood. She stared at it in disbelief for a few moments. _I'm…_ She shook her head. The thought was too much to entertain, and yet, here it was.

"Vulnerable…"

Her voice trailed off as a mighty kick delivered straight to her face knocked her into the cold water of the bay. The mighty spray kicked up waves that inundated buildings. The water felt abnormally icy compared to when she fought Lung. Water entered her mouth. She instinctively began to sputter. Her eyes went wide. _I'm choking on water_ , she realized. She shot out of the water like a rocket. She saw Noelle launch herself at Taylor and she ducked out of the way, grabbed the girl's ankle, and cracked her like a bullwhip into a pile of debris at a junkyard.

"You…BITCH!" Noelle screamed, blasting out of the pile and scattering shrapnel for hundreds of yards. As she came towards Taylor, the girl's arms and legs had scrapes and cuts leaking small amounts of blood.

 _She's vulnerable too_ , Taylor recognized.

"You're losing power," She risked saying. "I'm the last of my kind. We were made in pairs. Since you copied my power, I suppose you've become my pair. That means being close to me makes us both mortal."

Noelle wiped a cut and looked at the blood, considering this. "So, you're saying," she said, "all I have to do is kill you and I can take my revenge on everyone who took my life away from me?"

"Stop and _THINK!_ " Taylor shouted. "My father and mother were two of the most powerful beings in the universe. They were killed by Behemoth and The Simurgh. If that's the case, what are _you_ going to do when you are done taking your revenge out on everyone?"

Noelle considered this. Before she had a chance to, however, Alexandria flew in close and clocked the teen. The blonde teenager crashed through a partially demolished building, finishing the job. Both attackers converged on her at the same time. She shot out of the building. Taylor and Alexandria flew downward, punching her at the same time, smashing her into the ground, sending shockwaves that registered on Richter scales as far away as Pennsylvania.

Noelle lay flat on the ground. She was unconscious. Alexandria almost gasped. "Hancock! You're bleeding!"

Taylor's breath continued being ragged. "Get her…away from me…" she stammered. "She's become…my other half. Keep her…clear…" She stumbled and fell on her butt. Blood trickled from a head wound. Alexandria saw the signs of concussion and brain hemorrhaging when she saw it.

"Door!" Alexandria shouted. A portal opened behind her. She grabbed the unconscious Noelle.

A familiar power caused Taylor's eyes to shoot wide open, even with blood trickling into them. As if slapped sober, she peered into the portal and saw a woman in a fine suit and a wide brimmed hat. The woman burned with power.

Her mother's power. Taylor would _never_ forget that signature. A mixture of confusion and sorrow bubbled inside her. She clamored to her feet.

"Christ!" Alexandria swore. "Shut it, shut it, SHUT IT!"

The portal slammed shut and vanished as Taylor stood a foot from it.

Some woman had her mother's power.

Everything from depression to utter confusion flashed through her mind. It settled, however, on one result.

"rrrrrRRRRAAA **AAAGHHHHH!** "

Taylor let out a guttural scream of anger that rivaled Shatterbird of the Slaughterhouse Nine. Her power responded, and raw fire erupted all over her body. The concrete fractured under thermal stress. A few dozen on-lookers, standing hundreds of yards away, came to look at the commotion. It would be quite comical, looked at from an objective standpoint: here was a white-hot ball of fire, vaguely human-shaped, shouting obscenities a mile a minute at the top of her lungs. After letting off steam—literally—Taylor calmed down and she stood alone, perfectly healed, in a puddle of cooling melted asphalt.

"Great, now I'm naked," she muttered, still huffing in anger.

Some fucker had copied her mother's power. No, most likely, some _group of fuckers_ had copied her mother's power. She burned the woman's face into memory. She flew off before more photos of her nudity could be taken.

* * *

Tattletale was waiting in Taylor's room when she showed up. Taylor almost jumped when she entered the window and flicked the light on, having found a duplicate outfit on the way. She settled down and sat on the bed. "You shouldn't do that," she warned the Undersider.

"I just wanted to say, our deal is done," she said. "I led the Boston P.R.T. and Coil's men into a situation where you could act."

"I appreciate it," she said.

"I know you can kill me at the drop of a hat," Tattletale said, "but I just wanted to let you know that betraying my employer wasn't a decision I made lightly. The only reason I did it is because your relationship with the P.R.T. isn't as set in stone as I thought."

"Obviously not," Taylor said. "After all, even if they don't know about it, they've crossed a line."

She initially had a look of confusion, but then, she looked at the framed picture on the wall of Taylor, Danny, and her mother on vacation. The pieces came together. "Oh, they copied your mother's power?" She let out a whistle. "That's _cold_." She saw the look on Taylor's face. "You know what? I'm on it." As she let herself out the window, a smile crossed her face. "Trust me."


	9. Chapter 7

**Chapter Seven**

"Kiddo, how was…" His voice trailed off as he saw the tears running down her face. He moved to hold her. "What's wrong?"

She looked up. "Mom's…power…"

Danny shook his head. "Taylor!" He held her head close to his. "What's wrong?"

She blinked her tears down. Deep breaths calmed her to the point that she could speak. "I saw someone," she explained, her voice cracking intermittently. "They had the exact signature of mom."

Danny figured from her language that this person was not Annette. It struck him like a stab, but he held it back. "Oh, honey, that's…" Words failed him. He simply held her. Somehow, it shouldn't have surprised him, but the pain struck him the same. He could only imagine how she felt, having seen it first-hand. He had to swallow the urge to scream. The human impulse to hope sent his mind to insane possibilities. No one seemed to understand her power, even she didn't fully grasp it. Perhaps this would lead to her returning to life. Every rational thought in his brain screamed at this absurdity, but the part of him that had seen her accomplish wonders gave him a flicker of a flame in the dark. He dared not say this to Taylor, though, for fear of hurting her more.

"It wasn't enough that she died," Taylor said, sitting on the couch. "They had to steal her power."

Danny took a breath to stifle the storm brewing in his mind and heart. "When I lost her," he thought out loud, "I thought that was the end of her story." He held his daughter close. "I'm not sure what to even think anymore."

Taylor let out an intense breath. "I'm going to find these people," she said.

He saw in her eyes the magnitude of her resolve. The obvious question dared not show itself on his tongue. If murder were her intent, he couldn't stop her. Honestly, he realized, he probably would have felt the exact same way in her shoes. "Just understand, no matter what," he told her, "I love you always."

She held him tight. He constantly reminded her of the need for compassion. Here was a man who had made a woman and her daughter from another marriage a part of his life. She felt his anger in his ragged breaths and realized he was hurting because she was hurting. The loss of his wife factored less into the equation than she did.

She could imagine the logic behind these people, whoever they were. They probably thought they were doing the world a favor. They weren't seeking power for their own end, they were saving the planet. Would she be dooming the human race by opposing them? Was she the selfish one for wanting her mother to herself? She didn't know. Maybe their actions would lead to something worthwhile. She was still going to give them hell over it, in any case.

* * *

Alexandria got in late. It was almost four o'clock in the morning when Cauldron was done with her. She'd dropped Noelle in their clutches as a last-ditch effort to save the Hebert girl. Doctor Mother and Contessa gave her absolute _hell_ over her rash decision. They had the girl unconscious, who had effectively copied Taylor Hebert's powers, but being separated from her newly-minted other half meant she would recover just as quickly. They took a few dozen blood samples and deposited her back on Earth Aleph. "You idiot!" Doctor Mother had scolded the hero. "Don't you realize we won't be able to contain her?"

"I figured we needed the Hebert girl," she defended herself, "so I brought her as far away from her other half as possible!"

"How the hell did this person copy her power," Doctor Mother chided, " _right under_ the Protectorate's nose? How did this happen?"

"Coil was busted," she replied.

Doctor Mother took a breath. "Okay, I suppose that is unexpected." She turned to her bodyguard. "Contessa, did you get the blood?"

The woman in the hat nodded. "I did," she replied. "What next?"

"Get Doormaker to send her back to her home planet," Mother said. "We can't keep her contained with her newfound power. We'll have to make do with this."

"Got it," Contessa said, scooping the unconscious girl into her arms. She carried her off.

Doctor turned back to Alexandria. "Make sure nothing like this happens again," she said.

Alexandria protested. "What was I supposed to do?"

"Look," Doctor replied, "I get it. But this unexpected crap has to end."

The Doctor left Alexandria and headed towards the situation room. She had to get a hold of what was going on. She found her seat and pulled up her personal mode on a nearby tablet computer. She looked over a number of pieces of information and wondered why something didn't seem right. Somehow, the data given to her just a few days earlier by Contessa had gone off the rails. Unexpected things were happening and there shouldn't be this much variation.

Contessa appeared in the room a moment later. "Got her in her own universe again," the woman replied, adjusting her hat.

"I need to know what the hell is going on," Doctor Mother demanded. "You didn't tell me anything about Coil being apprehended, nor did the possibility of the Hebert girl having her powers copied ever pop up in conversation."

"I've looked into it," Contessa told the Doctor. "These powers are causing fluctuations that my shard can't deal with. The closer we get to the affairs of the girl, the more my power gets weirded out."

Doctor Mother contemplated this. "I _expected_ that," she replied. "What I _didn't_ expect was Pretender going off on his own and being unreachable. Would _you believe_ that?"

"He's playing with fire," Contessa said. Inside the body, Annette calculated her words carefully. Working with the shard within her host's body proved to be a bit easier as her power leaked into it through the connection. As her power influenced the shard, she found her queries being answered faster and more clearly, with less interference. So, coming up with excuses that Doctor Mother would buy proved easier with each day. Still, she had to follow these instructions perfectly.

"Get our plan back on track," Doctor Mother ordered. "And do something about this variation. We can't handle another incident like this."

* * *

Taylor took a walk. The slow pace and deep breaths gave her a sense of calm. Her mind burned through a question a second. Thoughts raced around in her head, slamming into each other and creating unrest. Several hours removed from her initial shock and anger, her internal emotional storm wouldn't let up. She had calmed down enough to look at the situation more objectively than she imagined possible. This could be a good thing, if it turned out someone had replicated her power. Her mother might even wanted such a thing to occur. The daughter's instinct within her still cried foul, however. After another block of walking, a familiar face approached.

"Taylor?" Emma said. "What's wrong?"

Taylor forced a smile and let out a sigh. "My mother," she began. "I don't know any details, but either her power's been copied, or, something else."

"What?"

Taylor nodded at Emma's question. "I'll admit, I'm in the dark." She wiped her face with her hands. "Honestly, I don't know how much I _want_ to know. I fought someone who'd copied _my_ power, alongside Alexandria, and Alexandria took the girl we beat through a portal. I caught a glimpse of a woman giving off the same power as my mother, different face."

"Wow, that's harsh," Emma thought out loud. She walked alongside her friend. "I'm sorry."

"No, I guess it's alright," Taylor argued. "Maybe I'm acting a bit selfish."

"You've still got the right to be angry!" Emma countered. "Argue about the details later, you can still be mad about it!"

A genuine smile appeared. "Thanks," Taylor replied. "God, this is all so complicated."

"I know you've been through a lot," Emma said. "I couldn't imagine having the responsibility you got."

"It's not all bad," Taylor argued. "I mean, I can't lie. It sucks sometimes, but I'm glad I can do something. You must get frustrated."

Emma let out a sigh. "Well, to be honest, there are times where I wish I could do what you do," she admitted. "But honestly, I look at the people you go up against, and I'm kinda glad I don't."

Taylor hugged her friend from the side. "I'm glad I have a friend like you…"

Emma noticed her trail off. "Tay? What's wrong?"

A bead of sweat rolled down her forehead. "Emma, get home and tell your dad and mom to get the hell out of town. NOW."

Emma faced her head on. "Tell me what's wrong."

"She's trying to get in my head."

Emma was about to ask who "she" was. She saw her friend's bug-eyed expression, and that was the only answer she needed. She took off running in the direction of home as Taylor spun to face the sea.

* * *

The Undersiders were looking at a screen displaying a live feed from a satellite. The surface of the sea some four hundred nautical miles out from the United States east coast gurgled and bubbled ferociously. Tattletale had hacked into it at the suggestion of Grue. They stared at the black and white image for a few moments before her power filled in the details. "Oh…shit…" she mouthed. She ran for her cellphone.

A few moments later, the phone rang at the front desk at the Brockton Bay P.R.T. headquarters. An underpaid desk clerk answered the phone. "How may I direct your call?" he asked.

"There's an Endbringer attack coming!"

The clerk spat out his coffee. "What?...!"

"Tell your superiors the strange ocean event is an oncoming Endbringer attack!"

No more than a minute and a half later, half the Protectorate in a hundred-mile radius were staring at a satellite feed of a gurgling spot on the sea headed towards Brockton Bay. Pandemonium reigned supreme as the higher-ups desperately tried to coordinate efforts. The Triumverate busily arranged talent where it needed to be. "Why are we only hearing about this from a phone call from a low-tier villain?" Alexandria asked.

Eidolon shook his head. "This doesn't make sense," he argued.

As warnings went over the airwaves, and the news immediately jumped on the emergency, Legend burst into the room, a familiar face in tow. "This is bad," Taylor said, "Simurgh is trying to get into my head. Instead of flying into action, I figured I'd do something you're always complaining about me not doing and come to you for advice."

"Do you have any more information than we've got?" Legend asked.

"We're facing a _serious_ problem," Taylor said. "I contacted an insider who supplies me with information on occasion, and she says we're looking at all three at once."

The Triumverate exchanged glances that she swore made the room colder. Eidolon took a breath and let it out. "That…is bad," he understated.

"Give me a minute," Alexandria said.

"I think we should get Taylor as far away from here as possible," Legend said. "If Simurgh gets control of her, who knows what could happen?"

Alexandria spun and let out a sharp breath. "Legend, _please_ ," she said. " _Just give me a minute_."

She left the group and went into a private bathroom, where she asked for a door. A moment later, she stood in Cauldron's base. Doctor Mother saw her expression and clenched her fists. "Tell me the bad news," she said.

Alexandria cleared her throat and had to steady herself. "This is close to the worst-case scenario," she said. "We have all three Endbringers converging on Brockton Bay."

Doctor Mother had to sit down. She looked up. "Get Contessa into the room." Alexandria left the room.

Contessa came in a moment later. Doctor Mother had a deadly serious look on her face. "You wanted to see me?"

"We have an Endbringer attack on Brockton Bay," Doctor Mother replied. "All three at once."

Contessa couldn't help but clench one of her fists reflexively. "My god," she replied. "We have to act!"

"I want answers," Doctor Mother demanded. "Pretender disappears with our main weapon, and now _this_."

Contessa shrugged. "I think we can win this," she said. "It's not impossible."

" _That's_ not what I'm worried about," Doctor Mother replied. "Alright, I _am_ worried about it, but I'm mainly worried about the fact that we were completely caught by surprise. We, Cauldron!" She gestured around the room. "WE got caught by surprise on this!"

"The Endbringers are a lot cleverer than people are aware," Contessa argued. "After all, they killed two of the most powerful people in the world."

"I know that," she countered. "I know your power doesn't work on them." She leaned in. "But we've never been caught off-guard _this badly_ in a long time."

Doctor Mother craved answers. Something was wrong. Even when they were using Pretender to pilot Annette's body, it hadn't fucked with the situation to the point where something like this should be possible. Sometimes, she remembered a piece of advice from a movie she saw once, you have to try something crazy. She decided to fish. She would take a complete shot in the dark.

This was crazy, and likely, pointless. But in times like these, crazy and pointless were likely their only options. She looked at Contessa. "Annette?" She expected nothing, a stone-faced, unchanging expression, or even an outright look of confusion.

Contessa flinched. She mentally kicked herself an instant later, as she realized the gambit for what it had been. It was too late.

Doctor Mother's expression darkened. "Son of a…!" Annette opened her mouth. Doctor beat her to the punch. "Doormaker, don't open a door for her unless I say so!" Annette closed Contessa's mouth. With fists clenched, she leaned back in her seat.

"So," Annette said. "The battle of wits begins."

"That explains so much," Doctor replied. "Somehow Pretender doesn't exist anymore, and you've used his power to take control of Contessa." Annette gestured approval. "So, that could be the reason everything's gone tits up. Your power's influencing not one, but two shards. God knows what you've unleashed."

"You're gonna really go there?" Annette asked. "I have to thank you for bringing me back to life, but are you really going to soapbox _now_?"

"You think because you've lived longer than Christianity that you know everything?" Doctor did a breathing exercise. "Our goal is to stop Scion. Do you even know the truth?"

"The shard's being very cooperative since my power's taken control of it," Annette said. "I know all about the cycle and Contessa's memories filled in the rest." She couldn't help but grin. "You think because you've built the ultimate conspiracy theorist's wet dream that you can control everything?"

"You think I'm going to let you go out there and risk my most useful cape?" Doctor rebutted. "The last time you took on Simurgh and Behemoth they took control of you and got both you and Hancock killed. Besides, your daughter is one false move away from becoming a W.M.D. on the scale of Scion himself."

"Not if she gets my help," Annette said. "Simurgh won't be able to take control of me because I have a shard under _my_ control."

Doctor Mother's eyes went wide. A sarcastic laugh escaped her. "Oh _really_?" She stifled another laugh. "What makes you sure of that?"

Annette's grin returned. "Didn't you stop to think why Scion didn't make a beeline straight here when Pretender went inside my body?" She paused a moment to let it sink in. "Didn't you people, if you're so damn smart, stop to think what would happen if your big golden freak sensed my power entering a shard of his?"

Doctor Mother's mouth almost dropped. "Son of a…!" She couldn't help it; as shameful as it was to realize after the fact, no, they _hadn't_ thought of it.

"Because you people were so desperate to play with fire," Annette chided, "the carrot dangling in front of you was simply too enticing not to reach for, that you didn't stop to think about consequences. Kids having found their dad's gun." She popped her knuckles. "I may not be perfect, but this is the kind of wisdom being alive for thirty-five hundred years gets you." She paused for effect. "I met Oppenheimer once; he told me only after the bomb test did he see the writing on the wall. He saw the world on the brink. I asked him why he didn't think of it ahead of time. You know what he told me?" She pointed at Doctor Mother. "He said, 'I was too busy thinking about how to build the darn thing.'"

Doctor Mother didn't ponder her words too far; this blatant attempt to wow her wouldn't work. "I'm not going to play into this," she told Annette. "You want to save your daughter? You want to make a difference? You have to give me back Contessa."

Annette weighed her options. "Fine," she said.

Doctor Mother started. "Really? Just like that?"

Annette shrugged. "This is more important," she said. "Besides, when all is done and the world is safe, I'm going to come for each of you. Got it?"

Doctor Mother gestured a "what have you" motion. "You're free to try," she said. "If the world is safe, I guarantee we won't be bothering things after that."

Annette emerged from Contessa's body. She looked at her reflection on the smooth table surface to make sure her real face greeted her. She hummed a note or two to make sure her real voice came out. She gave Doctor Mother a look that would freeze a crocodile. "If I see you people again," she warned, "you'll know it's _time._ "

Doctor Mother pretended to look at a watch she wasn't wearing. "You've got an appointment to go to. Good luck with the struggle."

Annette laughed. "Somehow, _this time_ , I don't think it'll be much of a struggle."

* * *

Taylor decided to heed advice. From the first moment the evacuation sounded, she'd moved at least a thousand people far away from the city. Super strength and speed made clearing traffic jams on the main highways easier. Alexandria had helped as well, and a good portion of the evacuation had proceeded more swimmingly than most Endbringer attacks. What helped also was the fact that they'd had more warning then most. However, as the assault came closer, Taylor felt her mind being assailed more strongly. "Alright," Alexandria said, "enough action. Get the hell away from here. As far and fast as possible. Got it?"

Taylor nodded. "Are you sure? The city might be destroyed."

"We've moved your dad and the people you care about the most far away," the hero replied. "You're the bigger issue. If you're controlled, who knows what will happen?"

"I understand," she said. It bothered her that she would run, but she couldn't argue against Alexandria's logic. After all, her mother and father died because of the Simurgh. She took off at incredible speed in a southeasternly direction over the open ocean. What better place, she figured, than the one place where she wouldn't be around a large group of people? She travelled for the better part of an hour until all she saw around her was water in all directions. Furthermore, she found her vision only saw more water in each direction. There, she figured, she would be safe.

On the shoreline, a number of capes sat waiting for the inevitable assault. Alexandria and Legend stood near the front, signaling that no one should be closer than the line they created. Eidolon sat a bit farther back preparing for his entrance into combat. A number of the capes, hastily assembled, included various villains and would-be anti-heroes who wanted to make a name for themselves. Dragon kept everyone up to date as the water began to rumble. An announcement went over the communication devices.

"Brace yourselves!" Alexandria's voice cried, carried over the technology.

The water breached, and from the sea, came Behemoth, the hero killer, and his equally frightening ally, Leviathan. Although capable of swift devastation, the two of them lumbered forward somewhat slowly, allowing the crowd to take in their appearance.

Legend noticed a problem as soon as Alexandria. "Where's Simurgh?"

Alexandria's breath quickened. "Oh, son of a…!"

* * *

Taylor felt uneasy, even if she felt a bit safer than she would have on the mainland. Far from Brockton Bay, with the city as evacuated as it could be in such a short notice, if Simurgh looked for her, it would take the creature a long time to get to her here. She hated not being able to get her hands dirty punching the shit out of some Endbringers, but the mind-altering bitch had a habit of turning people into mobile time bombs. If her mother had died from mind fuckery caused by the creature, it would be better if she avoided conflict with it altogether.

A searing pain in her head exploded, turning her vision blurry for a moment, right before the surface of the water erupted. She didn't even have time to zoom off before her field of vision went dark. The last thing she saw was the outline of the Simurgh in front of her. Somehow, the monster had predicted exactly where she would have been hovering.

She woke up on a bed. Her head hurt, and she wiped her face with her hands. Or rather, her left hand.

Because she found her right hand handcuffed to the bed's rail. "What the hell?" She shouted, jerking the handcuff every which way revealed only that she didn't have her strength. Her wrist hurt from the struggle. "Son of a bitch!"

What was going on? She had some idea of something important she'd been doing just a bit earlier, but her mind went blank as to what it was. Well, whatever it was, she had some vague notion of it being very important, so she took off, and…

She couldn't fly. The forces that gave her power were gone. "This isn't funny…"

She shook her head. What was she thinking? Flight, super strength? Where had she gotten that idea from? No, she was Skitter, member of the Undersiders. She remembered now. She'd been a local warlord, having fought off a Slaughterhouse Nine member, kept things relatively clean, drug and prostitution-free, and had surrendered to the P.R.T. after a confrontation in the school gymnasium at Arcadia.

"God, what a fucking weird dream," she thought out loud, leaning back in her prison bed. She'd fantasized about a world where she was the daughter of…Hancock? She had to stifle a laugh. Really? That movie that came out in 2008 starring…who was that actor again? Ah, it didn't matter. Yeah, flight and super strength, _that_ would definitely have helped against Sophia, Emma and Madison. Another realization hit her, in this fantasy world, Emma was her friend and she'd helped take care of Sophia and Madison. "Yeah, I guess if I stopped her rape, that would make me her friend." She stopped thinking out loud a moment. Wait, how did she know about Emma's near rape? Was that simply something she made up?

The door opened up, and Clockblocker walked in flanked by Armsmaster and a woman in a business suit, looking to be near forty. She seemed to recognize the woman, and at the same time, she didn't.

It clicked. "Alexandria?" she blurted out.

Armsmaster uncuffed her and ordered her to put her hands behind her back. Then Clockblocker paused her, and she found herself cuffed and bound with a belt-like device that shocked her if she became uncompliant.

They walked her to an interrogation room. Everyone relevant was there, even Director Piggot.

Wait, she thought. Something's off.

Alexandria in casual clothes sat adjacent to Taylor as she was offered and drank a sip of water.

"Words can scarcely describe the trouble you're in right now, Miss Hebert," Piggot said. She glanced at her protection. "I'm not even going to ask how you knew her identity." Her eyebrows went up and down. "Now that _that_ 's out of the bag."

"Tell me," Taylor answered, "when did the movie Hancock come out?"

Rebecca Costa-Brown, Alexandria, let out a chuckle and looked at Piggot, then they both laughed out loud. "What the hell does that matter?" Piggot asked.

"Something's not right," Taylor argued, "and I know it. My mind's been altered," she grasped for a how or a why, "although I'm drawing a blank, and I'm establishing my bases. Tell me about the movie."

Alexandria stopped laughing long enough to answer. "In two-thousand-eight, it was a Will Smith movie," she said. "Really bad, if you ask me. That good enough?"

Flaws appeared to Taylor almost immediately. "It's set in 2008? Did it feature the Endbringers?"

Piggot stifled a chuckle. "I mean, it," She paused. Not a stumble, either, she actually _paused_ for a moment. "It did."

Taylor's eyes went wide a moment. "Did? Or Didn't?"

Alexandria looked at Piggot, confused, before her confusion melted away. "It…did," she said. "Yes, it did."

"You don't sound too convinced," Taylor pointed out.

Piggot cleared her throat. "Let's get to the issue at hand," she ordered.

Taylor felt her mind calm somewhat. Her thoughts evened out. "What was I talking about?"

"Just some nonsense," Alexandria said. "In any case, we have to discuss the laundry list of crimes you've committed."

A thought came to her. "I want my lawyer," she said.

Piggot rolled her eyes. "Yes, we anticipated that," she said. "We've contacted him."

 _Something_ just kept bugging Taylor. It seemed things were somehow wrong, even if she couldn't find a clear-cut answer.

"Excuse me," Alexandria said. "You're not paying attention."

"Why should I?" Taylor said. "After everything you've done, why should I?" A name passed through her mind. "Director…Tagg?" She looked up. _Yeah, you're just being paranoid, Taylor_ , she told herself. _Director Tagg's right there_. The male director of the Protectorate, having replaced Piggot, sat with file in hand.

"We're trying to minimize the harm done," he said.

Taylor felt some figurative internal voice screaming at her. "Wait, wasn't I talking to Piggot just now?"

"Enough of this nonsense," Rebecca Costa-Brown said, standing up. She brushed off her suit jacket and headed for the door. "I've got your Undersider friends to bring in."

Taylor jerked to her feet. A pressure met her feet; she saw her legs were cuffed to the chair. She pulled with all her strength. Her arms jerked against handcuffs. "Motherf…!" She slipped and fell back into her seat.

"You can't break those cuffs, Hebert," Director Tagg replied.

"Watch me…! Aaarggh!" She pulled with all her might, and her wrists fired a shooting pain up her arms. She screamed several times in pain. Finally, with a strain, an impossible agony in her wrists preceded the sound of steel breaking. She pulled her hands in front of her to see her red wrists, but amazingly, no broken bones. Alexandria exited the room. Taylor pulled forward, breaking the chair's leg and freeing one of her legs. She reached down and broke the other chair leg. "Get back here!" She bashed against the door, over Tagg's shouted protests, unhinging it. Her leg restraints clanked against the floor.

 _Wait_ , she thought again. She shook her head. No need wondering how. It didn't matter. She had a task to perform. She saw her target fleeing down the hall. The hero flew out of the building. P.R.T. officers shouted as Taylor dashed past them.

"You're not getting away that easily!" Taylor leapt into the air, a vain attempt to follow Alexandria into the sky.

She flew. It struck her mind how impossibly absurd this was, and yet, she didn't question it. A gift from the gods, no doubt; she propelled herself forward and saw her target midair. She latched both hands around the woman's neck and flew downward, smashing into the water of the bay. Where did this strength come from?

There were so many problems, but right now, she had to stop Alexandria from killing the Undersiders, her friends.

* * *

Alexandria had stared in disbelief as Behemoth and Leviathan stood stock still on the sand. A few moments later, a screaming, sputtering Taylor, shouting obscenities and impossible absurdities, caught in the middle of a Simurgh illusion, smashed into her at incredible speed. She punched and kicked, knocking Taylor for a loop only for a moment. Good god, the girl was strong.

Taylor knocked her into the water and pushed down. Alexandria began to sputter and choke. _Fucking hell_ , she thought. _Murdered by a Simurgh-controlled superbeing_.

The look on the girl's face flit between furious rage and abject confusion. Somehow, because the girl had strange powers unlike any other, Simurgh's control was imperfect. Alexandria pushed past her burning lungs and headbutted Taylor clear out of the water. She spat out salt water and coughed, moving past a hypersonic Taylor at the last moment. Her freedom was short-lived. The girl moved much faster than her, grabbed her and held her under the water again. The hero punched as hard as she could. The look of hatred told her this girl was seeing something truly horrifying.

"TAYLOR!"

Alexandria leaned her head back. Her eyes went wide.

Behemoth and Leviathan bothered to turn around. Both let out various roars and growls at the sight.

Taylor looked up.

And went limp.

* * *

Taylor was staring at the dead bodies of several of her friends. Grue was ripped clean in half, Tattletale lay with a hole in her chest the size of a basketball. Bitch and her dogs were scattered across a block of pavement. Standing at the epicenter, the bitch who'd caused it all, Alexandria, stood with a grin on her face. Taylor let out a primal scream and throttled the woman through a wall, and into the water. She held her down, watched the coughing and choking, and felt a strange sense of pride. Still, that nagging voice again: where _were_ these powers coming from?

"TAYLOR!"

Her body went limp. The world literally evaporated around her. Her mind began to rapidly clear. The absurd truth struck her like a train. She looked down to see Alexandria freeing herself from the water. "Oh my god," Taylor uttered, looking at her hands. "I almost killed you."

"What the hell was that?" Alexandria said.

"Simurgh must have put me into an illusion," she said. "My dad was just a movie character, I was a member of the Undersiders, and the names kept changing…" She trailed off as she looked past Alexandria. Her mouth went dry and her eyes were figuratively the size of dinner plates.

She didn't realize she'd shook her head. "N…no…Can't…be…"

Annette Hebert pushed Alexandria aside. She took her daughter by the shoulders. "Taylor! You're okay!" She pulled her daughter into a tight hug.

Taylor's eyes blurred from tears. She pulled her arms into a hug, struggling against the rubbery feeling of disbelief weighing her limbs down. "M…mom…?"

"I'm here! You won't have to….oof!" Her heartfelt introduction was cut short by a sharp blow from Behemoth, blasting her into the water like a stone being skipped.

Taylor looked over at her mother, rocketing out of the water, and over at the Endbringers. "Y..you…FUCKING…. **BASTARDS!** "

She plowed into Behemoth at the same time her mother did, the two of them bisecting the monster clean. Annette grabbed Behemoth's upper half and ripped it into halves. She ripped and tore through flesh until she had him reduced to his core. Taylor stood agape in disbelief. "Follow me!" She shouted.

Taylor flew down. Her mother's power seemed to flow into and through her. "Mom…?"

 _It's the Gift of the Earth_ , Annette's voice said. _It's the reason your father and you couldn't kill Endbringers on your own. Only someone strong enough to move even the Earth itself, if need be, can punch through an Endbringer's core_. She projected her thoughts and her power through her daughter.

Taylor saw the power of the gods flowing through her. The power to shift the weight of celestial bodies flowed through her mother. Sharing in her mother's gift, she felt stronger than ever before. She flew down, and channeled her fire into her fist with her newly-shared gift. Leviathan's body disintegrated like charred wood, flesh exploding and breaking apart. She grabbed the core.

The Simurgh flew behind them, screaming psychically. Her illusion had been imperfect, because of this bizarre power, but she hadn't expected the other woman to show up. The woman had a shard, which now channeled her power through it as well. The manipulated shard had shielded the woman from Simurgh altogether. What was this power? She pressed the attack.

"No, you don't!" Annette struck with all her power. She blasted the body apart with fists propelled with ungodly force. After a few well-timed blows, a third core sat before them. They now had all three Endbringers.

"What do we do now?" Taylor asked. "These things are so dense, I'd hate to break them on Earth!"

"Then we take them off Earth," Annette said.

Taylor shook her head. "Where?"

Annette tapped into her daughter's gifts of Fire and Lightning. "With your fire and lightning, you should be able to fly faster than light if you're in space," she advised. "Follow me!"

They took off, Endbringers struggling against the grip. They pushed their flight faster, both turning into streaks of fire with bolts arcing off. Mother and daughter looked down to see a familiar sight gaining on them.

Scion.

The golden man flew, matching speed for speed, a look of confusion and disbelief on his humanoid face. A look from mother to daughter seemed to say everything, and they left the atmosphere and hit a speed almost impossible for either to imagine themselves capable of reaching. A little over a half hour later, they slammed their angry, thrashing cargo into the surface of Venus. The ultra-hot, carbon dioxide atmosphere irritated the eyes and lungs of Annette and Taylor, but they withstood it and pressed the attack.

Simurgh pressed hard against Taylor's mind. She attempted to create another illusion, but the girl resisted. "NO!" Taylor shouted, the atmosphere's gases distorting her voice. "FUCKING DIE!"

She channeled her mother's power and her fire and lightning. A hammer blow worthy of Mjolnir smashed against the core. It fractured, and the shockwave sent Taylor flying. Simurgh went into panic mode, launching psychic attacks at seemingly random, launching telepathic shouts in all directions in space and time. Taylor reached for the core and took hold of it. "I SAID FUCKING DIE!" Another world-breaking blow later, and the core exploded into pieces.

A blinding flash of light erupted as the shockwave knocked a huge section of the planet's atmosphere away. Taylor drifted in space semi-conscious. The explosion would be visible from Earth.

"TAYLOR!" Annette shouted, before realizing her daughter's thoughts were still able to creep into her mind. She struck the Leviathan core with such force that it erupted like a sunburst. She found herself thrown halfway across the planet as the explosion shot a huge cloud of the planet's atmosphere outward as a streak.

Taylor came to a moment later and found her mother drifting among the clouds of carbon dioxide. They streaked down through the planet's atmosphere and found Behemoth's core. They each grabbed it and shared a glance. A nod later, and they each struck the core at the same time.

They came to a few moments after the explosion. Much of Venus' atmosphere was gone. They embraced, no words to describe this momentous occasion. Annette looked at her daughter, tears of sorrow forming.

A sound they heard in their mind alerted the two of them. They looked away from each other.

Scion floated. Arms folded. The look in his eyes could stop a man's heart.

This had been a display of power he had never seen before from such beings as humans. Furthermore, one of them had a shard that no longer responded to his thoughts. Forces beyond the physical rules of the universe were at play, and it ate away at him.

Then he stepped aside and gestured at the Earth.

The Heberts exchanged uneasy glances and headed back home. The whole time, he followed them, unsure and eager to discover. He would figure this power out, he decided, even if it meant his death. Even if it was his last act.

Even if it meant the end of everything.


	10. Chapter 8

**Chapter Eight**

"I don't fucking believe it," Armsmaster said. The Director shot him a look. "Yeah, I swore. Get over it." Almost an hour had passed since the two figures stood outside the Protectorate headquarters in Brockton Bay. The woman and young girl standing in front of the crowd had seemingly done the impossible. The live feed from NASA had shown three enormous eruptions of light on the planet Venus, followed by the destruction of much of the thick clouded atmosphere. What he couldn't believe was that this woman stood here at all. Every file they had showed that she was dead. Alexandria and Eidolon had personally spoken of that day. He'd stood on the beach and watched as the news feed from Dragon had read out the bad news. Still, impossible things happened with some regularity anymore.

"It doesn't make sense," a P.R.T. officer said, watching as the crowd gathered.

News camera crews gathered. Annette and Taylor had spoken to several P.R.T. and government officials. The microphones gathered. The mother nodded to the daughter, and she stepped forward.

"My name is Taylor," she said, introducing herself. "My father was the hero known to the world as Hancock. My mother and I are trying to fill the shoes he left open." She closed her eyes and took a deep breath. "My mother and father died during a battle with the Simurgh and Behemoth. I don't know how she came back to me, but rest assured, her return gave us the opportunity to right a huge problem."

The crowd went silent for a moment. Annette stepped beside her daughter and leaned into the microphone for effect. "The Endbringers," she stated, "are dead. We killed them."

The sound that followed boomed so loud over the area that Armsmaster covered his ears. The news crews frantically waved at their coworkers in the vans to send it over the air as quickly as possible. The mother and daughter stepped back from the microphones for a moment. "Mom, what do you want to do next?" Taylor asked.

"Leave them asking questions," she advised. "We've got a lot of catching up to do. And we also have to take out the Slaughterhouse Nine."

That last one caught Taylor's attention. "What?" She shouted in a whisper.

"Tell you all about it after I catch your father up to speed," Annette replied. "Right now, just give them a quote."

Taylor shrugged. "Alright."

The two approached the eager news media. "Team Hancock," they said in unison, "is back in business!" They took off, leaving the crews shouting questions and the bystanders cheering and celebrating.

* * *

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 **Topic: ENDBRINGERS ARE GONE.**

 **In: Boards ►News ► Events ► Endbringers Defeated**

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member)(The Guy in the Know)

GEE SUS. WHERE DO I BEGIN?

Hancock's wife is back. FROM THE **_DEAD_**. Mom and daughter fight **_AND KILL THE ENDBRINGERS_**. What could I possibly add? The Endbringers are defeated. The fight took place on the planet Venus. The explosions that killed the monsters could be seen from Earth.

 **VideoSkunky** (Veteran Member)

I don't.

I just don't.

 **DancingBabii** (Veteran Member)(Confirmed PRT)

I swear to Christ I've never been so happy to be given a mountain of paperwork to fill out.

 **FluoridatedWaiter29** (Veteran Member)

I was watching the tv and they interrupted Sailor Moon to tell us that the Endbringers were defeated. On VENUS no less. I was so excited I accidentally crapped my pants.

 **ConjunctionJunction** (Veteran Member)(Cape son)

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG OMG

 **FlipperyWhenWet** (New Member)

Tell us how you really feel.

 **GirlzWithGuitarz** (New Member)(Cape daughter)

I CAN'T BELIEVE THIS IS REAL OMFG

 **RunnerGunner91** (Veteran Member)

Let's talk for a moment about the fact that these two might be more powerful than Scion. I mean, they killed ALL THREE IN ONE FIGHT.

WHAT.

 **WilliamFatner** (New Member)

I was thinking the same freaking thing OMG.

I can imagine the conversation. "Hey, dear, how's things going? Oh, not much, I just CAME BACK FROM THE FREAKING DEAD AND **KILLED THE ENDBRINGERS**."

 **Bagrat** (Veteran Member)(The Guy in the Know)

All I know is that the versus debaters are LOSING THEIR F$%&*^# MINDS. I mean, they flew from Earth to **VENUS** in, what, less than an hour? Isn't THAT what the footage shows? Let's be REALLY conservative and say it took a full hour. Speed of Light in a vacuum, according to Google, is 1.079 x 10^9 kilometers per hour. The distance to Venus is 261 million km. I did the math. My calculator says it's **24 PERCENT THE SPEED OF LIGHT.** And that's assuming it took a full hour. Any time less than that and the number goes up. And honestly? We haven't even taken into consideration that they might not have strained completely. I mean, the news reporting the Endbringer attack to the report of the explosions wasn't that long.

So, this is huge. HOLY CHRIST ON A CRACKER. I'll get back to y'all when I can pull my jaw off the ground.

* * *

Annette and Taylor made it back to the house before the news crews could get there. Danny stood on the porch propped against the door so as not to fall over. He approached his wife, barely able to contain himself.

"I…" he uttered. Water poured from his eyes and he almost collapsed forward into an embrace.

"Oh, hey!" Annette exclaimed, catching her husband, whose arms wrapped around her, weakly at first, then rigidly. "I missed you too, love."

"Y…you…you're alive…" Danny managed to say, his legs wobbly. His voice cracked several times. Taylor hugged them both. "Oh, my God, I couldn't believe it. I thought I was hallucinating."

"I hate to break up this moment," Taylor said, "but the news is going to be here in like ten minutes. Let's go to the cabin."

"That's a great idea!" Annette said. Danny took the hint and went in and grabbed his helmet and jacket. They locked up the house just as Taylor saw news vans heading up their street. They took off and a few minutes later, arrived at their other residence. Annette got the generator, the solar panels and the heater working. The lights went on and they locked the door behind them and shut the blinds.

Seated next to each other on the couch, they embraced as they waited for the heat to catch up. "I can't believe this is real," Danny said. He wiped his eyes.

"It's a hell of a story," Annette said.

"You won't believe what happened," Taylor said, "while you were gone."

"Oh, believe me," Annette replied, "I'm looking forward to hearing it.

Danny looked at his daughter. "Honey, do you mind if mom says her part first?" He looked at his wife. "You're in a hurry?"

"Yeah," Annette began, "Taylor and I have to deal with some enemies after I'm done. But let me get started. I'm sure I can fit this whole story in time."

* * *

"You will have to be fully immersed in our ways, Vo'lai." The being said, shifting into a humanoid shape.

Annette nodded. "I understand," she agreed.

The room changed around her, and the other spirits fled. She found herself in a blank slate of a room, with grayish, smooth textured walls and no features whatsoever. A light seemed to illuminate the room from nowhere in particular. The figure waved its arms and made the room change into a kaleidoscope of colors passing all around and through each other. "Prior to the origin of your universe," the being explained, "we existed in a dimension free of complication. We were nowhere, and everywhere, because there was nothing except our existence." The scene changed to an early universe, opaque with a brilliant light existing everywhere in space at once. "Until your universe was approximately three hundred thousand Earth years old, energy existed at such a high state that no atoms could form. The entire universe was light." He waved his arms. The light disappeared and blackness reigned. "When the universe cooled to the point that matter could form, we became interested in it."

"Wow," she said, watching as portals opened and the multi-colored blobs floated into the universe through portals. "So, you've existed for a long time."

"For billions of your Earth years, in fact," he corrected. "We discovered our ability to alter this reality to our benefit to be of utmost use. Rather than implement our ideas of what should exist, we waited for the universe to provide us tools to work with." He showed her images of planets forming, with all manner of bizarre arrangements of inorganic matter on it. "When we arrived on worlds where there were all kinds of wonderful things to play with, we engrossed ourselves in creative means for millions of years." He showed a wide variety of scenes; she saw everything from black holes to planets that rained glass. "However, life provided us with the most unique experiences imaginable."

The scene changed to show planets with dozens of species, and the colorful beings would take on shapes like the life forms, and imitate their life patterns. She saw them mimic creatures so familiar she'd have sworn panspermia was true, and also lifeforms so strange, she couldn't imagine they would be called animals. "That's amazing," she thought out loud.

"Not only," he replied, "but we would occasionally alter the properties of a few members of a certain species just to see how the reaction would be. Needless to say, we often got ourselves a little carried away."

A bizarre planet came into view. Annette looked at it strangely. Something about it felt wrong. Upon closer inspection, her jaw almost dropped. "What in the fuck," she uttered.

"Certain," the being responded. They zoomed in on absolutely enormous beings of such inhuman biological arrangement as to resemble acid trip horrors. "These things, what the humans refer to as 'Entities,' originated _here_." The scene changed to hundreds of the colorful godlike beings descending on the planet, invisible to the inhabitants. "We arrived, drawn to these Entities by their enormous intellect." He zoomed in on various members of the species. "Unlike most of the primitive, early universe life, these things were not only sentient but _sapient_ , capable of complex and abstract thinking."

He looked at her. She nodded. "At last the universe could ponder its own existence," she replied.

"Certain." He showed a fast-forward of the history of the planet. "We gave various members of them an incredible array of powers. We would get great enjoyment out of competing with each other to imagine the most unique power possible to encapsulate in these things called 'shards' and bestow them upon individuals." The conflicts started at a minor level and escalated from there. "From life, we saw the struggle that had inevitably transpired, but it was these things that truly taught us the nature of thoughtful conflict." The wars that emerged ravaged the planet and rendered most life on the surface extinct.

"I don't get it," Annette replied. "Why didn't you just intervene directly and stop the fighting?"

"It must seem monstrous and terrible to a human mind," he answered, "but in as many cases as possible, we do not interfere once a being has decided to utilize the power we have given them." The next scene showed the various entities ejecting themselves into space in various directions until they crashed into planets. When they did, they bestowed their powers upon the life forms, stirred up conflict, and learned from the results. Then they destroyed each version of the planet, and moved on. "They decided to take our method of travelling from planet to planet and learning, and add their own twist to it." The scene changed to two specific Entities. "We have never been much concerned about the end of this universe. We are unlikely to be affected by its death. These beings, however, will not survive the ultimate fate of this universe. So, they endeavored to prevent the ultimate fate of the universe."

"Can such a thing be done?" Annette asked. "Is it even possible?"

The being considered. "Not quite known," he said. "At this point, at least." The next thing Annette saw was the Entity known as Eden crashing into an alternate Earth, and her death. Her partner remained unaware of this event. Her jaw almost dropped when she saw the Entity's partner.

"Scion," she uttered.

"Certain," the being said. "The cycle they began is permanently broken."

Horror struck Annette. "So, what happens now?"

The scene disappeared, and she found herself back in the uninteresting room with the being again. "We train you in the power we have given you," he said, "and you return to Earth to serve the human race against a being that, in all likelihood, will turn violent against his unwilling host planet."

Annette found her emotions conflicted. "I thought he was weird," she admitted, "but, my partner and I were weird too, so I didn't think anything of it." She looked at the being. "Can I defeat him?"

"You? Uncertain," he admitted. "With your daughter, it is certainly possible."

She drew herself into a more serious posture. "I'm ready."

They performed a lot of mental exercises. Different beings would replace the familiar trainer, and some of them had radically different humanoid features. They allowed their student to sleep as she would when she was on Earth so as to ready herself to return. Since she didn't have to eat or bathe here, however, she trained whenever she wasn't sleeping. Among the litany of things she learned was how to control her power, how to tap into each of the various elements, and how to develop an individual element to its utmost. The elements themselves, were not actually literal; Earth, for example, was an abstraction of the physical application of force and the resistance to the same. Fire and lightning represented rearrangement of matter in destructive and creative fashion, in various forms. Wind, or sky, represented movement, and such things. Each of these were an enormous blanket that covered millions of different possible applications. The uses that humans granted these powers found were but a fraction. Most people of her kind simply focused on their durability, strength, and flight. In all the thousands of years they'd lived, they hadn't even scratched the surface of what they could actually do.

Annette learned how to focus effects from one element onto the world around her. Being able to utilize the enhanced strength of Earth with the destructive power of Fire would prove useful in combat. She learned about the aspects of physics her power worked around and how to switch back and forth for greater effect. Finally, she learned how to overcome the thoughts that humans had that hindered how godlike beings fought.

The time came when she woke up in her own body again and she had to fight against Pretender in her own mind space. She didn't like the thought of having one of those shards in her, nor the thought that she basically murdered a man. Still, she had her daughter back, and that was one of the things Contessa's power gave her, so using Pretender's shard proved useful after all.

* * *

Danny couldn't believe what he'd just heard, even though he knew it had to be true. "My god," he uttered. "How'd you stay sane through it all?"

Annette wiped a tear from his eye. "The stuff I was having to deal with," she explained, "was nothing compared to knowing how long it would be before I could see you again."

Taylor embraced her mother. "You had to deal with Cauldron," she uttered. "I don't know if I could've handled it."

"Honey," she told her daughter, "what _you_ are is the best of us. None of those others could do what you're going to do when you're ready."

"Right now, can I just celebrate having you back?" Taylor said.

Annette looked at the clock. "We'll have plenty of time to celebrate," she explained, "once we do something first."

"Is this what you saw when you possessed Contessa?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," Annette explained. "After I figured out how her power worked, I got around to asking lots of questions. My power affected how her power worked, making it more effective, so the more I learned, the more I knew I had to use what I had."

Danny put two and two together. "Because you knew you wouldn't have access to it forever," he said.

"That's right," she said. "So I had to memorize a bunch of different scenarios, and even with my bear trap memory, it was difficult to keep it straight."

Taylor's expression focused. "You mentioned the Slaughterhouse Nine," she said.

"Contessa couldn't use her power to affect the Nine because it conflicts with Jack Slash in some way," Annette explained. "I figured that out once I started looking at her data. But somehow, my power changes that. If we want to put an end to their carnage, we have _one shot_ at this. They think they're hidden, but I was able to determine _exactly_ where they're hidden."

Taylor clenched her fists. "Let's go," she declared. "Don't try to leave me behind."

"On the contrary," Annette said. " _You're_ the key to all of this."

* * *

Somewhere, a radio picked up a broadcast. Nine distinct figures stood around the small object. The hunting shed's owner, sliced cleanly to pieces and lying in the corner, paid no attention as Bonesaw examined him. "The Endbringers are dead," a young woman's voice came over the speakers. "We killed them." The next voice came from a radio news anchor commenting on the nature of the return of the Hancock's earlier that day.

"It seems the gods walk the Earth again," Jack Slash said. A grin drew itself onto his face. "We've got our biggest challenge back."

Bonesaw looked up and appeared positively ecstatic. "Oh, goody!" she yelled. "I've never inspected a literal god before!"

Jack looked between Siberian and Bonesaw. "You might just get your chance."

"Not going to happen," a voice said from behind them.

All of the Slaughterhouse Nine turned around. Before any of them had a chance to register what they were looking at, the two figures vanished from where they were, and Shatterbird felt a wind in the room. She turned to her left, and Jack had vanished. There was a hole in the wall of the shed.

"So, you bastards found me!" is what Jack wanted to say, but the two women had their hands so tightly on his throat, all he managed was a raspy shout. In a way, he had to smile, even though he was rocketing towards the upper atmosphere at supersonic speeds. He wanted to fight a truly vicious opponent, and by God, he'd gotten his wish. He pulled the knives out of his front pants pockets and began carving away at flesh. Well, he _tried_ , and it was the thought that mattered. His blades' edge extended in all sorts of directions, and slashed against hair, eyes, arms, reducing clothing to ribbons.

"He keeps getting that in my eye," Taylor said. "It's making me mad." She reached out her hand that wasn't holding his throat and caught his right arm, squeezing. His bones appeared to be reinforced, but given enough pressure, even _that_ broke.

"You're right," Annette agreed. "Let's take care of that." She did the same and disabled his other hand. A moment later, they passed above the ionosphere, and the man's oxygen got sucked out of his lungs. He would have frozen to death in seconds, and asphyxiated even if that hadn't happened, but they waited a full ten minutes in near vacuum conditions to make sure. They deposited his corpse in a safe location thirty miles from the compound.

"If Siberian is here," Annette said, as they flew back to their targets, "that means the one projecting her is nearby. Take him out!"

"What?" Taylor asked.

"I'll explain later."

Taylor took off to solve the Siberian problem. Annette arrived at the compound just as the Nine had taken up battle positions outside.

Mannequin did not hesitate. He charged, remarkable speed behind his limbs as he struck out with blades extending from various limbs. She dodged a right arm strike only to realize it was a feint. His other arm rocketed towards her torso, four blades extending as it aimed for flesh. She grabbed each limb and tore it free from the torso. His powerful mechanical legs propelled him forward, and she pointed each limb inward and jammed them through the body, impaling him. A thrust kick cracked the body in two and smashed it into the hut. Siberian and Crawler attacked next, the enormous body of the mutated Crawler moving with surprising speed. Siberian arrived first, defending against Annette's blows with near effortless ease.

Crawler lashed out with one of his front legs, smashing her backwards with brute force. Siberian closed the gap and went for the throat. Annette grasped the wrists and pushed back, finding no success. The striped woman moved forward, meeting her foe's hands in a test of strength. Annette pushed back with flight, the striped feet digging trenches as they dug in. _She's not fighting back with normal power,_ Annette thought. She ramped up her strength, curling back the fingers of her foe. Crawler ambled forward. _Shift direction in a fight_ , she thought, seeing this.

A spin of the foot allowed Annette to pivot, moving Siberian's considerable momentum behind her. Now the irresistible force was moving backwards. She spun around, using rotational momentum to her advantage. This allowed her to use Siberian as a batter used a bat. The impact launched the monster, the ground quaking as his multi-ton body flattened about ten meters of trees, and almost caught Shatterbird if she hadn't dodged in time.

Her attention had been on Crawler too long. Siberian righted herself almost immediately and clamped two hands on Annette's throat. The monstrous woman dug in. Despite being indestructible, she felt pain as the striped fingers squeezed. _Shit, she really is a physics breaker_ , she thought, pulling back the arms as best she could.

No good, she noticed; this creature didn't require effort. Annette summoned as much of the Gift of Earth she could muster. With supreme effort, she pulled the hands away from her throat. The striped woman's yellowish eyes stared in near amazement at the successful resistance. She slammed the monster with a headbutt. Siberian's head recoiled, but she righted herself at once. Saw-like teeth snapped at the woman's nose. She drew back and delivered a stronger headbutt. The monster's grin returned the moment she recovered.

"Son of a BITCH!"

With a shout, Annette delivered a headbutt that would have put a crater on the moon visible from Earth. The shockwave hit Shatterbird, who had recovered just in time to be splattered across a twenty-meter arc. Bonesaw, who'd been watching the battle from farther away, got launched and would be later found by the P.R.T., coughing up blood with most of her bones either shattered or broken. Crawler lost a significant amount of body mass. A circle of forest five miles in diameter had been flattened. Some of the members of the Nine would never be positively identified and would simply be assumed dead when they never showed up again. The downed trees and vegetation shifted as the monster emerged. She took two steps forward, and Annette threw up her fists, ready for a fight.

Then Siberian vanished into thin air.

Annette stepped forward, then sat on a log. "Fuck," she muttered. A pile of trees exploded as Crawler emerged, roaring and stomping forward.

A bright streaking fireball impacted him and exploded him into pieces. Taylor did not hesitate to start burning flesh into ash. He regenerated ridiculously fast, limbs growing back and slamming into the two women. Annette and Taylor carved away at the body, tearing piles of flesh faster and faster. The core drew ever closer.

"Mother…"

"FUCKER!"

They swore. Annette's blow splattered a lot of the flesh, and the core became exposed. Taylor took it in her hand and burnt it to ash with a superheated fist. The remaining flesh collapsed around them.

They sat on a bit of rubble. They shared a laugh. "I guess I wasn't the only one who picked up some of Hancock's foul language," Annette said.

Taylor wiped her hands on some leaves. She slowed her breathing and let herself relax. Fighting with her mother was something she hadn't had much of. She smiled at the thought. Even given the nasty nature of the villains, she wouldn't have passed up this experience for anything.

"You can call him 'my father,' I don't mind," Taylor said. "I can give the two of them the title."

Annette smiled. "Alright," she said. God, this was nice, she thought. Nasty thieves and murders aside, the chance to stand on a battlefield with her daughter gave her such a good feeling. How long had Taylor fought alone, not having a chance to share in her mother's knowledge? The thought of the future, even given the nature of their objective, made her optimistic.

"This is a weird question," Taylor asked, "but why did you and my father wait so long to have a child? I'm not complaining, I just wondered."

The older woman let out a deep breath. "Honestly? I don't know," she said. "For the longest time, there were just normal humans and us. We were the last. We stayed apart so that we wouldn't die. I guess we figured," she shrugged, "you know, 'what the hell? We've got tomorrow. We've _always_ got tomorrow.' Then, golden man shows up. Suddenly, people are getting weird powers, and these _monsters_ start showing up and wrecking things." She chuckled. "We never even discussed it, but honestly, I think just this weird stuff happening all of a sudden made us think, we need to have a child so we don't just wait around forever and never make something more than just ourselves."

"Well, thank you," Taylor said.

"Anyway, let's get back to business," Annette said.

After the breather, they returned to Jack's corpse. Annette grabbed the body. "Door," she said.

They stood there for several long moments, the sound of the wind their only companion. Annette held the corpse up. "Stop acting like children! You know what I'm carrying! Door!"

A portal opened. Contessa and Eidolon stepped out. Doctor Mother stood behind them, through the portal, at least a quarter mile back. "So," Contessa said. "You took out one of our biggest problems."

"How do you like the upgrade?" Annette asked.

"Heh." Contessa shook her head. A devious smile appeared. "I don't really grasp what transpired when you controlled me, but, thank you. Your power has affected my shard, making my power much more…" she considered the _best_ word. "…cooperative." Eidolon took Jack Slash's corpse from the two, and handed it to workers through the portal.

"Killing the Nine earns you this meeting," Eidolon said. "So what do you want?"

"I'm more than willing to put the differences between us aside," Taylor began, "as long as you agree to stop attempting to exploit my family."

Contessa relayed this to Doctor Mother and she nodded. "Seems reasonable," Contessa replied. "Anything else?"

"From now on," Taylor continued, "if we are missing something, you provide us the details. If we're to keep this world safe, this cloak and dagger crap can't continue. Any information we're missing, any details we need to know, you give it to us."

"Fine," Eidolon answered. After answering, he turned to Doctor Mother for the OK and she gave it.

"Finally," Annette added, "when this is all over, I expect a full disclosure of your actions."

Contessa shrugged. "Why not? Once the world is safe, Cauldron won't be needed anymore."

"That's enough," Doctor Mother exclaimed. "Our business is done." Contessa and Eidolon stepped through the portal and it closed. Taylor turned to her mother.

"So, what now?" she asked.

Annette smiled. "We get back to the business of catching up," she replied.

They embraced. "I just…I just can't believe you're really back!" Taylor shouted, taking off after they held.

"There's a lot of work for us to do," Annette reminded. "Let's get back to your father and then, we've got work to do, but not right now."

About twenty minutes later, the two of them had acquired food and were eating at the Cabin. "Hey! You're back…" he trailed off.

Taylor set the food down on the table. "What?"

Danny blinked. "You're wearing different clothes than before!"

Annette rolled her eyes. "Got ruined in the fight," she said. "No problem."

Danny sat opposite Taylor with his burger and fries. "You must've had a hell of a time," Taylor said. "Coming back from the other world, fighting the Yàngbǎn, and all that."

"Like the Grateful Dead used to say," she quipped, "What a long, strange trip it's been."

"I've kept the fort up with you gone," Danny said. "As much as I can. Taylor's been making quite a name for herself."

"Working with the Protectorate," Annette chimed in, "busting a prostitution ring, taking down one of the major crime bosses of Brockton Bay."

"And the Empire is almost done," Taylor said. "Beat the crap out of Hookwolf and that was entertaining."

Annette took a drink. "I hate Brockton Bay Nazis."

They laughed.

Danny set down his food and drink, held his wife, and just wept for a few more minutes.

Taylor held them both. "I'm sorry I'm so weepy," Danny said. "I just can't believe it."

His wife, whose funeral he'd attended, touched her cheek to his. "I'm here again," she said. "I'm not going anywhere."

"Mom," Taylor said, "I'm glad you're back. I love you so much."

"You and me both," She replied. "You two are the world to me."

They spent the next few minutes just holding each other in embrace. Afterward, they packed up their supplies and Taylor put the tarps over the solar panels and shut the generator off. They flew back to the house, where, thankfully, the news crews had left. Danny opened the front door and Taylor set the helmet on the stand inside by the front door.

"Excuse me," a teenage, female voice said.

They spun around to face the person. Taylor recognized her at once. It was Tattletale in civilian clothes. The face next to her was a bigger surprise. "Dinah Alcott?" Taylor asked.

The mousey young niece of Mayor Alcott regarded the girl next to her and the three in front of her sheepishly. She looked like she'd been up for a week. Her hair had been hastily combed into place. Someone had picked out the clothes for her to wear last minute; Taylor just somehow knew. Annette saw her daughter recognize these two and deferred judgment.

"How can we help you?" Annette said.

"We wouldn't be here," Tattletale began, "I swear. Unless it was important. I know you don't exactly think of my team as 'good' people."

Taylor pointed to Dinah with a glance. " _She_ wouldn't be with you unless it was important," she thought out loud. "We're listening."

"We got here as soon as we could," Dinah said. "There's a huge probability that time is broken."

Annette and Taylor blinked at the same time. "Excuse me, what?"


	11. Chapter 9

**Chapter Nine**

Annette and Taylor sat in the living room in stunned silence. They'd spent the better part of a half hour being told what was going on. Still, it was difficult to imagine what was being said as true. "Wait," Taylor said, easing her way back in. "So, you're telling me that, your probability powers are saying sometime in the near future, we fight Scion and lose, and go back in time to do it over again?"

Tattletale nodded. "It sounds crazy," she said, "and to be honest, I wouldn't have imagined it myself if I hadn't heard it straight from Dinah." She let that sink in. "Dinah, got in touch with _me_."

That sobered Taylor up. "Ok," she uttered, blinking hard and wiping her face. "How sure are you that this happened?"

" _Is happening_ ," Dinah corrected, massaging her temples. "As far as I can tell, there's a ninety-nine point nine nine six percent chance that this _is happening_."

Annette chimed in. "So, you're saying that there's a loop of time happening as we speak?"

"I'm fairly certain the time streams are overlapping right now," Tattletale said. "Apparently, you stumble across some method of time travel and do it. What isn't coming to me right now, is how that's possible. But my power is screaming at me that we've got a serious problem. I'm getting scenes from futures that might happen, _maybe_ ," she gestured wildly with her hands, " _and maybe not_. Dinah's power's gone apeshit giving her absurd possibilities one minute and sane ones the next. I can't imagine a scenario other than something's affecting the numbers themselves, and that implies causality has taken a hit."

"So," Annette asked, "what do we do?"

Tattletale threw up her hands. "I don't know," she admitted. "I've got ideas, but I wanted to come to you _before_ the shit hit the fan and see if we can address the problem somehow."

A loud bang shook the house.

"What the hell was that?"

* * *

Parallel to the timeline where the conversation happened, Team Hancock had fought off the Slaughterhouse Nine and prevented a war between the P.R.T. and the Yàngbǎn, as well as stopping a dozen assassination attempts within the high ranks of the Protectorate. Unusual activity had been coming from Scion, as of late, and they had kept track of him. One morning, however, Scion hovered and kept silent. Finally, with a brilliant flash of light, a beam left his hand.

Annette and Taylor sprung into action almost fast enough to prevent landfall. Almost. Most of London and parts of the surrounding countryside melted as the stray parts of the attack slammed into buildings and people and incinerated everything it touched. Both immortals took the brunt of the blast. Their clothes turned to vapor immediately. Hair caught fire and skin began to blister. Taylor grunted and pushed forward resisting the unworldly heat as her skin got torched. She kept her eyes closed and found she could see through her eyelids from the light of the attack. Annette pushed back with all her strength. With their gifts being shared, they pushed back against the beam. The seemingly endless onslaught of energy came to an end as the two pushed to within spitting distance of Scion. Taylor turned backward for only a few moments; her enhanced vision allowed her to view the wreckage.

Her mouth dropped open. "My…God…" she uttered. A quick estimate told her at least thirty million dead, maybe more. Hundreds, if not thousands of square kilometers of land were molten or on fire. The people in the parts shielded by their bodies were safe only for the moment. Annette grit her teeth.

"What the fuck is wrong with you!" she swore.

The golden man gave no response, only a smile that stretched from ear to ear. _The fucking bastard is enjoying this,_ they both thought.

Taylor's speed and her mother's strength allowed her to get in front of the man before he could fire another golden beam and finish Great Britain. She drove her fist into him with everything she had. It tore a chunk out of his flesh. A long moment passed as she examined her golden blood-stained hand, and the flesh repaired itself almost as quickly as it took her to realize she'd punched right through him. Her left fist ripped through his head and splattered guts into the air. It grew back in an instant. Two golden beams shot from his eyes and caught her right in the face.

"Aaarrrgh!"

Taylor's vision went out as her face erupted in a feeling of agony. Scion's blasts had melted part of her face and exploded both eyeballs. She fell backwards, catching herself before she fell too far. The flesh began to heal quickly and blackened scar tissue fell off. Annette exploded onto the scene, pulsing the golden asshole with a high-speed flurry of blows that caused huge chunks of flesh to erupt like giant pimples. A golden hand grabbed her side, and glowed. Flesh boiled and bubbled as she let out a shout and headbutted him with enough force to cause cavitation in the air. He shot backward and she examined the charred, rapidly-repairing skin of her abdomen. This monster's alien power had enough potency to damage their otherwise-invulnerable flesh. This was bad.

Taylor's face finished repairing itself and she shot like a missile into Scion and exploded his body in a shower of flesh. Flames surrounding her body reduced huge pieces of him to ash and she turned around just in time to see the mass of alien reappear and smash two glowing fists into her mother. The impact knocked the wind out of Annette and blistered her skin where it touched. The force carried her into the ground which caused an earthquake for miles around. The landscape trembled as she blasted back into the sky. She stood by her daughter, examining the monster.

"We aren't doing enough damage," Taylor said.

"That's a problem," Annette acknowledged. "Honestly, I think it's because this isn't his real body."

"We need a portal to his real body," Taylor said.

Scion interrupted their conversation by appearing in front of them and smashing glowing fists into their chests. Eyes widened as the wind left them. They soared through the air and crashed through miles of countryside. Scion left them to cause more damage somewhere else. Taylor prepared to zoom upwards.

"No," Annette said. "Let him rampage. I think I know how to stop him."

Taylor shook her head in disbelief. "What?! How!"

"Door," Annette said.

"You want me to _what?_ " Doctor Mother said.

"You heard me," Annette said. "Let me possess Doormaker."

Contessa stepped in. "This is no time for power plays!" she said. "Scion is attacking!"

"Do you want to win or not?"

Doctor Mother and Contessa exchanged a glance. A few moments later, they were standing in front of the portal-making parahuman. "You'd better pull this off," Doctor Mother said.

"I'm not joking," Annette said. "This is how we do it." She turned to her daughter. "Taylor!" Her daughter snapped to attention. "The moment you go through, hit it with everything you've got. Unleash _hell_."

Taylor nodded. "I will."

The older immortal disappeared into the body of Doormaker. She went to work focusing immediately. A short distance away from where they stood, a hole in reality itself opened.

Scion emerged.

"Oh fu…" Contessa's shout vanished, along with the rest of her and Doctor Mother, in a beam of light. Empowered by Annette, Doormaker's body held, although his clothes and much of his surroundings vaporized. The beam came to an end.

"NOW!" Annette/Doormaker shouted, as a portal opened. Taylor shot through like a bullet.

The portal closed behind her as a second beam pierced the air. Taylor felt the air suck out of her lungs as she emerged on a dead Earth. The Atmosphere was minimal. Almost every surface had the titanic body of Scion. Small peaks of mountains dotted the tiny regions not coated in inhuman flesh. Flames erupted on her body with bolts of lightning shooting off as she impacted a land mass with the force of dozens of nuclear missiles. Massive bursts of gore shot into the sky like a tsunami. She heard a noise that chilled her to the bone as she looked up to see Scion emerge from a portal. A look of rage on his face like never before told her everything she needed to know. She continued to attack his real body.

Scion shot forward to grab her, but Annette appeared, in Doormaker's body, and knocked his avatar off course with a flying kick. Taylor shot into the mantle of the planet and up again, ripping through Scion's real form and causing geysers of lava to coat the surroundings. Using Doormaker's body combined with her powers, Annette shot through several of Scion's continent-sized body parts. His golden avatar shuddered and twisted horrifically before making a beeline for her. She flew sideways to avoid a golden beam at point blank, but she swung at him and he disappeared.

 _Goddammit!_ She realized a moment too late as he appeared behind her and clamped both hands on her head. She struck out and hit flesh, but only succeeded in pushing through. Taylor was causing immense damage below, but might not make it in time.

Scion felt himself slipping away. Parts of him began to die and he would soon find his entire life extinguished. So as he latched onto the woman, he pushed everything he had into the shard inside the body the woman inhabited. These shards had been parts of his body, but these strange higher-level humans had powers that affected them and supplanted his control over them. Still, with much effort, and much pain, he could exert a sliver of control.

Annette shrieked, and considered leaving the body, but then, they'd have no way of leaving the dimension they were in. The shard in Doormaker's body struggled as her power contradicted Scion's, and her mind felt the backlash. Something in Scion's energy activated the shard's power, and a portal began to form near them, convulsing and twisting as the two titans fought over it. "TAYLOR!"

Taylor punched through the surface, raining lava on dying chunks of entity flesh as she heard her mom screech. "MOM!" Her body rocketed towards Scion with impossible speed. A fist drawn back lashed out at the golden man. He hit her with a beam she didn't see coming.

Annette saw through the portal. It was their house, but…it couldn't be _now_ , as there was Danny and her room, with the bottle of wine she'd bought the week they were reunited. The scene turned forward, stopped, and then _turned backward_. It occurred to her she was looking back in time. Scion's energy, affecting Doormaker's shard, combined with _her_ power affecting it, had allowed a portal to be made in _time_. Scion regarded the discovery like a caveman discovering fire. His energy burned into Annette's mind. She couldn't hold on much longer.

"Son of a bitch, you put her down _NOW!_ " Taylor shouted, smashing through the golden man like a torpedo. His body quickly reassembled, and he reached for the portal. He threw his semi-conscious victim aside and lunged. Taylor grabbed him and threw him backwards. Scion roared in pure rage. Instinctively, a fierce golden fist smashed into Taylor's midsection.

This launched her through the portal. What transpired next took only seconds. The hole in time snapped shut and sent a shockwave through the house Taylor found herself in. She crashed into the floor and had enough time to stop herself before tearing through the floor and reducing the floor to splinters. She shook her head and looked around; she was in her mother's room. To her right, now on the floor, sat the bottle of wine her mom had bought as a means of celebrating her return. _She drank that weeks ago,_ she recognized. _Hold it, am I back in time?_

"What the hell was that?" she heard her mother say.

* * *

A bright light engulfed Taylor. Her parents reacted immediately. "What in the hell's going on?" Tattletale didn't like what she was seeing, and Dinah clutched her head. "Taylor, talk to us!"

"I wish I knew," Taylor told her dad, "I'm not sure.

Down the stairs, flew a _second Taylor_. "What the f…?" Before she had a chance to speak, the two glowing Taylors connected with each other and merged into one. Dinah let out a pained grunt.

"Taylor! TAYLOR!" Annette shouted.

The glow dissipated. Her daughter looked up at her with a look of knowing on her face. "Mom? How far back am I?"

She looked confused for a second, then remembered what her guests had said. "Oh! Uh, we'd earlier beaten up the Slaughterhouse Nine," Annette explained, "and then these two visited us."

Tattletale stood up. "How did you time travel?"

Taylor thought back to the chaos of what was, for her, only a few seconds. Her younger self's memories started coming back to her. "Ignoring the fact that I just became one with my prior self," Taylor said, "we were fighting Scion and mom had possessed Doormaker's body to give us a portal to Scion's true body. Then, Scion attacked her and somehow interfered with the portal creation, making a portal through _time_."

Annette thought about it. "My power would've made Doormaker's ability more cooperative," she agreed. "So, what we _need_ is to be able to stop Scion before he can hit me with whatever he hits me with."

Dinah held up her hands. "Wait! Wait a minute!" she shrieked.

Everyone turned to her. "Is this the problem?" Taylor said.

"Exactly," Dinah said. "Somehow, you're the one who keeps getting sent back. There's a ninety-eight percent chance this isn't even the first _ten_ times this has happened. This is why time is in danger. You're building up…something that's damaging the space-time continuum."

Taylor paused and took stock. "Right," she acknowledged, "we shouldn't go off half-cocked." The implications caught up with her. "If I've been here so many times, that means we keep trying and failing."

"So," Danny chimed in, "do you remember any specific things you tried and didn't work?"

Taylor tried, but the memories didn't come. She remembered only the most recent fight. "No," she uttered. "If there were other trips back, somehow, I don't remember them."

Annette thought of something. "Dinah, the reason you don't like using your powers is because they cause headaches?" She asked. The girl nodded. "Would you be ok with me possessing you?"

The girl sat back and thought about it. "Given that the other choice is the universe ending," she said, "I'm going to say yes this once."

"That's a really good idea!" Danny remarked.

"Ask me any questions you want," Tattletale offered.

"I'll do you one better," Annette remarked. "I'll need to possess both of you in order to figure out what I need to know."

Suddenly, a sound of thunder echoed overhead. Taylor ran to the window and looked outside. "Goddammit," Annette swore. "Is it Scion?"

"Worse," Taylor said. She turned to her family and allies with no hint of sarcasm or humor.

"It's _me_."

* * *

A portal opened in space and out from it erupted a naked, burning, and severely pissed off Taylor Hebert. The latest god damned plan had gone so horrifically bad that a third of the planet's surface had been melted. The sight of her friend Emma burning to ash in front of her would never leave her mind. She had to stop her prior self and their idiotic plan from being put into motion.

"Worse," she heard the younger by several weeks version of herself say. "It's _me_." Older Taylor burst forth.

No sooner did the words leave Taylor's mouth than the wall to the house exploded as the older version smashed into her like a cruise missile. Drywall and timbers erupted like toothpicks in a wind cannon as they barreled through the other side. "Couldn't you…." Taylor gasped for breath with a hand around her throat and batted away at the strong arm on her. "…just talk to me?"

"Unlike you," the Older Taylor uttered, "I actually defeated Scion, and _then_ the portal opened. I had to see all our hard work undone and my entire world decimated. Our mother _died_!"

Normal Taylor smacked her older self off and drove both feet into her stomach, launching her out of city limits and into the countryside. The older version crashed through dirt and concrete, leaving a trail of broken roads and farm houses in her wake. Normal Taylor landed just as her older self stood up. "There's no way I'd be so childish as to pick a fight with _myself_ ," she said. "I don't believe you for a second." She noticed the bruise on her older self's hand. "Besides, _you_ seem to be worse for wear. I'm not weakening as fast as you are."

Older Taylor stood up and brushed the dirt off her. "You think _you_ can succeed?" She yelled. "You think you can do what I couldn't?"

Normal Taylor closed her eyes, let out a breath, and opened them. "Look," she said. "We're running out of time. I don't have a choice. We have to prevail." She held out her hand. "Trust me and give me your memories."

Older Taylor huffed. "It's not like it's better odds than what I tried."

They shook hands. The two Taylors merged.

Taylor Hebert entered the house through the enormous hole in the front wall. Annette stood up after leaving Dinah's body. "What's going on?"

Taylor sighed. "A version of me tried their best to save the world and failed," she explained. "She relented and I have her memories."

"So," Tattletale figured, "that means she tried whatever we were planning and it didn't go anywhere."

"Well," Dinah remarked, "that sucks."

Taylor sat in a seat. "Strap in, folks," she said. "We're probably in for more of me showing up." She perked up.

"What?" Danny said, noticing.

"I have an idea," Taylor said. "This may not even work, but, mom, possess me."

Annette stepped forward, hesitant. "The world's at stake, otherwise, I'd never do this," she stated.

"I get it," Taylor said.

"I won't do this to you again," her mother said. She steeled her will, and then possessed her daughter.

The instant her bodies combined, they saw each other's memories. Taylor saw the immense size of her mother's life story, from her childhood in ancient Europe, to her trials through the African continent, and even her adventures in the Far East. Annette saw her daughter's life without her, growing up with Danny and their life together, dealing with the trials of high school and girlish cliques and the social structure. She saw her daughter stand up to considerable evil and prevail in ways both clever and brutish. All in all, she could be proud of the good deeds done by Taylor and the will she had to save lives. More importantly, she saw the multiple attempts they had made to stop Scion and save the world. The memories came almost all at once. Some thirty different attempts to defeat the alien menace, and each had resulted in the wholesale destruction of much of the Earth, or one of them being sent back in time before the act of killing the monster could take place.

They separated. Annette sat back on her end of the couch and the two stared at each other for a good moment. "Did that give you any ideas?" Tattletale said.

"I think so," Taylor said. "But it's going to be more complicated."

"This is going to be one hell of a gamble," Annette commented, her eyes saying she had the same thought.

They stood up. "Let's go," Taylor said.

The front door to the Brockton Bay P.R.T. headquarters opened and two very familiar figures walked in. All the officers stopped and took notice. The people in line at the metal detector stepped aside as they walked through in civilian clothes. The detectors beeped and no one stopped them.

"Um," the officer at the front desk stuttered. "Team Hancock! What can I do for you?"

"Need a meeting with Alexandra, or Eidolon, or Legend." Taylor said. "Stat. Let them know it's a 'private meeting.' No eyes or ears that don't have the highest of high security clearance."

"Ma'am," he began, "that's a tall or…"

Annette cleared her throat. "Son," she said, "the fate of the world is at stake. Tell them."

He gave a nervous smile. "R…Right," he said.

Five minutes later, the two of them sat in chairs opposite Doctor Mother, Contessa, and the Triumvirate. Doctor Mother held her arms folded. "You make a hell of an entrance," she said. "But if this is about Scion, it's important to us." She waved her hands. "Speak."

Taylor cleared her throat. "We've fought Scion, failed, and gone back in time," she said. She waited for the uncomfortable pause. "Apparently, we've done this several times, and now, time is on the verge of breaking."

"What." Doctor Mother said.

"We're breaking time," Annette confirmed.

Contessa tilted her head, confused. "What."

"Now," Taylor resumed saying, "I believe we have the best way we are ever going to get to actually defeat Scion."

Doctor Mother folded her arms again. "Okay, you've got my attention, _again_ ," she said. "I believe you. After all, only through your crazy magical abilities could any of this nonsense make sense."

"You used my mother's blood to make Cauldron formulas that had unique properties?" Taylor asked.

"Yes," Contessa said, sarcastically. "And if you're about to blame us for those again…"

"No," Taylor interrupted. "You're going to give me one."

Doctor Mother almost barked a laugh. "Excuse me," she said, "do you think I'm stupid?"

"Scion's attacks can _hurt us_ ," Annette said. "We're still durable enough to take most of it, but whatever his powers are caused by, it enables him to do damage to us."

"Which means we have to take any option we can get," Taylor said. "And based on the memories of the dozens of attempts my prior selves have made, there's _one_ specific Cauldron vial that has the specific power needed to stop all of this."

Annette looked into Doctor Mother's eyes. "I remember looking at the data when I possessed Contessa," she reminded. "You gave the vials to specific people to achieve specific goals. There was one you kept. It was the vial for empathic power."

Doctor Mother gulped. "It's because we didn't know the extent of what was meant by 'empathic,'" she said. "Using various means, we got a basic sense of what would happen, but there's not a lot of specificity we can achieve when there's things like _fucking magic_ involved."

"Fair point," Taylor said. "Now cough up the vial."

"You know," Contessa argued, "we're putting a lot of trust in you. You two have roped us into a situation where we have to rely on you and we don't have a lot of options if you fail."

Both immortals exchanged glances. Finally, Taylor broke the ice. "Excuse me, are you fucking stupid?" She facepalmed and opened her eyes wide a moment. "I can't believe you don't get it. Look at what we're capable of. This is going to sound arrogant, but, honestly, if we can't stop the bad guys, what do you think you're going to be able to do?"

Doctor Mother sighed hard, her expression stone anger. "The reason we formed Cauldron in the first place," she explained, "was to amplify humanity's power as much as possible. Our goal was to be able to fight off such monsters as Scion. We can't exactly help it that you people exist. But you keep cutting the rug out from under us." Annette laughed. "What's so damn funny?"

"I don't know if I've said it, but it needs to be heard," She began. "The honest truth is, I could have utterly wiped you guys out when I came back to life. I'm not even going to blame you for that." She half-chuckled. "The fact of the matter is, I understand where you're coming from, even if I don't think I would do the same. But _you_ need to understand. Like it or not, Scion is _likely_ more than humanity could handle without us. This is a big universe. Who knows if there are bigger things or not?"

"And to make things even clearer," Taylor added, "We're basically gods among mortals. And yet, here was Scion, who could hurt us. Anything that gets through us is going to stomp you."

Contessa pondered the words said for several long seconds, then Doctor Mother and her exchanged glances. They both relented and the woman in the hat left and returned with the vial. Taylor held it in her hands. "You know," Doctor Mother said, "it's a miracle Scion didn't go after you the instant Annette's powers took hold of the shard she got from Pretender. It's likely the instant you take that vial, he's going to go on the attack."

Taylor exchanged a glance with her mother. This was likely _it_. She looked at the two heads of Cauldron. "We're not going to be more prepared than this." She downed the vial.

Somewhere over the Atlantic Ocean, Scion, travelling between Africa and North America, felt a familiar surge of power overtake one of his shards. A sensation similar to what humans call "pain" hit him.

The resulting psychic shout struck some twenty or so billion people across multiple Earths.

* * *

Team Hancock wasted no time. Using Doormaker's body, Annette deposited her daughter and her in the path of Scion, where Taylor intercepted a beam headed straight for Brockton Bay. Using all her gifts, she took the brunt of the golden energy head-on, directing the rest with her aura away from land. Water flashed to steam where the blast hit ocean. She lifted above him and rocketed a fist into his torso that caused him to skip across the water, losing chunks of flesh that rapidly regenerated. Annette quickly caught and stabilized several passenger jets caught off-guard when their pilot was knocked unconscious. Doormaker's abilities enhanced by her power enabled her to inject herself right back into the battle as quickly as possible. Taylor swung at Scion, who caught her palm to face. His hand lit up and she screeched as flesh bubbled and hair caught fire. With a swipe she knocked the arm holding her clean off, enabling her to kick him away while her face healed semi-instantaneously.

Annette flew straight at Scion, who readied a blast, but at the last moment she placed herself behind him with a portal. A bearhug later, and the golden being was stuck. "NOW!" she shouted.

Taylor knew Scion had a million ways to be free of her mother's grip as soon as he realized what was going on. So she propelled herself faster than she had ever moved before. He lit up his limbs with power and began to burn through Annette's body. Doormaker's mouth opened in a scream of agony as Annette felt flesh burning. She saw her flesh redden and blacken on the surface as the unearthly heat travelled inward. Scion uttered a growl no human ears could comprehend.

Taylor's open hand made contact with Scion's head.

"UNDERSTAND, YOU BASTARD!"

Memories flooded both ways.

* * *

Scion felt the weight of thousands of years of the memories of both Taylor and Annette. When Taylor had been possessed, she'd learned what her mother had been through. Now Scion saw a vast chunk of human history through their memories. His alien mind glimpsed not one, but hundreds of different lives, through the interactions of two immortals who had travelled through vastly different lengths of human history. The breadth of human joy and cruelty, the immensity of human achievement and the frailness of human failure, and the limitless sense of wonder as well as the pathetic sense of greed and shortsightedness played out in front of his mind's eye. At last, his mind understood, in all its unworldliness, the complete picture of humanity. Finally, he saw himself as they saw him. They saw him as both a wonder and something to be feared. What he considered to be the most important thing in the universe—the fate of the universe itself—barely registered to them in their incredibly short lives. They lived such a brief period of time—immortals excluded—that they saw the universe not as a thing that would die and take all life with it, but as a curious thing to be studied and a thing to be both revered and feared.

Taylor experienced the incredibly foreign life of an entity through Scion's memories. Alien cycles of conflict in ways humans would never dream of played out in senses humans had no equivalent of. Planets where the entire surface swarmed with beings the size of continents. Moving in ways humans couldn't imagine a lifeform moving. She saw communication, followed by the destruction of every version of a planet. Various entities launched through space until they found worlds occupied with life. Some experimented with the living things on the worlds they encountered, learned from these experiments, then moved on. Finally, after thousands of years each time, some of the entities formed pairs. The concept of the cycle would form, and the familiar pattern became known. The alien's mindset struck her as the most unusual thing she'd ever experienced. She felt emotions that had no human counterpart. What thoughts could make equivalents of these ideas? Still, the thing that surprised her the most was their sense of time. Things happened on such an enormous scale of time for these beings that the human sense of urgency must have seemed absurd to them.

Taylor's hand came away from Scion's forehead. He said nothing, the look on his face betraying his sheer bewilderment and sense of disbelief at the experience. The fact that a power beyond the scope of anything he imagined had enabled her to use his shard against him didn't even factor into his state of mind. What struck him as simply absurd was the degree of emotion. Prior to this encounter, he believed he had experienced the most intense emotions in the universe when his kind went to war with each other. Compared to that, humans felt emotions a hundred times as intense when compared to the miniscule scale of their bodies and minds. An entity's rampaging anger might be bigger but compared to their scale it was a tiny fraction of their mental capacity. By contrast, a human felt with every fiber of their mind. Human beings were utterly _consumed_ by emotion, both positive and negative. A strong enough feeling could save one's life or doom them entirely. By contrast, an entity barely registered the outcomes of their emotions at all. To an entity, a world-shattering emotion might not have any lasting external effect at all.

What he had genuine trouble believing was just how much of an impact he had. To his kind, Scion was nobody. No one individual meant anything to their kind beyond its purpose and what it served in the scheme of things. Entities knowing their lack of ability to survive the conflicts would submit themselves and be consumed. He had shown up just a blink of an eye ago, from his point of view. In that short time, there were many lives who were eternally grateful for his help in saving them, and also, in alternate timelines where he went on rampages, many billions of lives who died feeling so much pain. These humans overflowed with emotion. They fought to the bitter end, sometimes knowing their inevitable demise the entire time. They suffered immensely at the thought of dying. They mourned their loss with levels of sorrow no entity could match. Sure, he felt a deep depression at the thought that the cycle had been terminated by the death of his partner, but humans felt more severe sorrow at the loss of their loved ones every Earth day. But most importantly, humans struggled with purpose.

The entities felt they had a singular purpose. To determine a method of averting the end of the universe. These humans, who each clamored to either find a purpose they accepted, or to create their own, stoked a sense of curiosity he had seldom felt before. The experience left him staggered and more than a bit confused.

Taylor backed off, watching his face distort in expressions that seemed foreign to both. Her heart pounding a million miles an hour, she watched him struggle with his new experiences as he hovered at point blank range. His mind raged on and she held her ground, ready to resume the fight at a heartbeat if necessary. Scion seemed to process for minutes that seemed endless. His expression lightened.

"Are you…?"

Scion's hands shot out at impossible speed and gripped the side of her head. Taylor never got to finish her sentence as the alien monster took control of her shard. _Damn it,_ she mentally swore. She had simply assumed her power would shield her completely from his influence. But, after all, it was _his_ power. Even with her energies influencing it, it did come from him. Taylor swung, knocking him off her, but it was too late. Her mind went wobbly and he tore away from her. A golden blast of energy ripped through Brockton Bay and much of North America. Everything from the coast of Maine to the Mississippi River was scoured in a matter of seconds. Her heightened senses allowed her to see her town—her friends and everything she'd known—flash fry. The look on Emma's face right before annihilation would haunt her forever. Scion gave the closest thing to a laugh he was capable of. Her legs became like gelatin, and she'd have fallen if she wasn't flying. Elsewhere, Annette was doing damage to Scion's body. The golden menace had ignored it for the influx of new data, as had been their plan, but the distraction meant nothing after all.

Scion attacked her, fruitless as it was at this point. A portal appeared and Doormaker's body shot through, Annette slamming into the alien at top speed. A look of sheer horror overcame Scion. "The planet your body is on is disintegrating," Annette said. "You're done for." He grabbed her neck and screamed. She punched him as his body began to collapse from the connection to his true form. With the last of his strength, Scion pumped all his energy into a beam that cut straight through Doormaker's body. Taylor let out a scream like no other. A final flicker of light shone in Annette's eyes, and a portal appeared.

A time window opened. Taylor shot through, creating a sonic boom on the other side.

From inside a familiar house, a familiar voice said, "Goddammit, is it Scion?"

To which her own, younger voice replied, "Worse. It's _me_."

The absurdity of it all was too much for her to handle. In defeating the Alien, she'd become a puppet on a string. Something in her mind cracked under pressure. The whole battle played out before her. And yet, the anger flooded in with sorrow. Tears drenched her eyes. She flew down and through the house, snatching her younger self by the neck, smashing through timber. "Couldn't you," her younger self struggled to say through a vise grip on her neck, "just talk to me?"

Unlike millions of people, Emma had time to see her death coming. She had enough time to _feel_ herself die. Taylor's mother perished after successfully dealing the death blow. How ironic, she thought. All throughout the battle they believed they had the answer. She'd trusted herself many times over, and nothing but death and failure had come. She couldn't handle any more.

"Unlike _you_ ," she swore, "I actually defeated Scion, and _then_ the portal opened. I had to see all our hard work undone and my entire world decimated. Our mother _died_!"

Her younger self got a hand close to her face and knocked her off. A second blow sent her careening through buildings and knocking debris every which way. As she got up, the younger her spat and looked incredulous. "There's _no way_ I'd be so childish as to pick a fight with _myself_!" Younger Taylor swore. "I don't believe you for a second." The girl paused to notice something. "Besides, _you_ seem to be worse for wear. I'm not weakening as fast as you are."

Taylor looked down at her hand, unblemished before, but now sporting a nasty bruise. Other than Scion's fatal blow to Annette, this was the only real damage she'd sustained that hadn't healed. Clearly, they were so similar their weaknesses were activating. And it seemed that Older Taylor was not as ready as Younger Taylor. She thought of time, and how the loop had repeated itself. She'd been on the other end of this exchange. The thinking pushed the sorrow and anger aside just enough for her to consider it clearly. Wasn't there subtle differences between the way her younger self acted _now_ versus when _she_ was on the other end?

She stood up and brushed the dirt off her, examining her younger self carefully. She let out a pained sigh. "Do you really think _you_ can succeed?" She yelled. "You think you can do what I couldn't?" A thought occurred to her. She'd said the _exact_ same thing her older self had said when she went through this earlier. "You know, the _last_ time this happened, I was on your end, and this exact same scenario played out."

"Damn it," her younger self swore, "we're running out of time. Do you trust me or not?" She held out her hand. "Now give me your memories."

Older Taylor relented. "Fine. Just promise me you'll try something different." They merged.

* * *

"Are you…?"

Taylor's words cut off as Scion's hands shot out at an impossible speed. Taylor cringed.

Suddenly, a pair of hands grasped the alien's arms and held them short of Taylor's head. Taylor looked up, incredulous. Her mother was supposed to be destroying the planet his real body inhabited while they set up the distraction! "You're supposed…!" Her words cut off mid-sentence. Her mouth hung open. It was impossible. They'd been _told_ it was impossible.

"This bastard has _so_ got to die."

A long moment passed. Taylor blinked in disbelief. "Dad? How?"

"Time," he simply said.

It was Hancock.


	12. Chapter 10

**Chapter Ten**

Taylor couldn't believe what she was looking at. The moment he spoke snapped her to reality. How could this be possible? Her mother had been told by beings of unimaginable stature, who had _made them_ the way they are, that he would not be coming back. An answer hit her a moment before her father said it. Hancock knocked Scion away from his daughter.

"Time travel," he simply uttered. "Talk later. Fuck shit up now."

Scion ducked beneath a clothesline attempt from Hancock and kicked him. The golden alien reached for Taylor but she dodged it with all her speed and delivered a rising knee to his chest. She slammed a fist into the side of his head, and he bounced off the water and smashed through a small fishing village along the coast. Hancock didn't give him a moment and crashed through the ground, driving the golden man deeper. Scion shouted and a golden sphere of energy fired upwards, knocking them both away. He levitated upwards and flew at them. When they dodged, he revealed his ruse, teleporting to their other side and hitting them both with golden beams.

Hancock's flesh bubbled but he pushed out of the blast and knocked a third of Scion's upper body off with a swift kick. His fists caught fire as his gift allowed him to scorch golden flesh as he pounded away at relativistic speeds. Taylor's eyes regenerated in time to see the onslaught; she'd never seen punches so fast. The golden man twisted and writhed as his body regenerated in time for the next chunk to become ash and fly off. Taylor combined her lightning with her father's fire and the alien began to spasm.

Annette had seen just about everything. What she didn't expect was to see her former husband and the father of her child come back to life and fight Scion. She looked through the portal and shut it just as quickly. She had a job to do. Closing her eyes, she utilized the gift of the Earth and plowed downward into the planet, ripping continents apart with each fly-through and punching clear through sections of the twisted inhuman lifeform the size of nations. She heard a hypersonic roar and felt a psychic scream hit her mind a moment later. The sky over this Earth began to darken and a portal flashed like lightning.

The golden man appeared. He had a look on his face that could scar a normal person's nightmares. A golden aura shot out of him and he appeared in front of her with near instantaneous speed. His hands fired beams. She instinctively knocked them away, but they caught her legs and melted them off below the knee. Her scream pleased the alien. She opened a portal high above and behind Scion and collapsed in pain towards the ground. Taylor and Hancock appeared an instant later.

Father and daughter ignited their gifts and plowed through the golden man, reducing his current avatar to ash instantly. Taylor launched herself in one direction to catch her mother, and Hancock went in the other direction so as not to trigger their weakness. "Mom!" she shouted, catching Doormaker's body. "I've got you."

"No problem," Annette said, chuckling through the pain as her legs regenerated. She opened a portal and the two of them moved to the opposite side of the planet. Using portals, the mother tore through sections of the crust, torching huge areas of alien flesh with lava. Taylor lit her whole body up and flew through the mountain of alien flesh like a human incendiary round.

The golden man appeared in front of Annette and fired a beam. Taylor hit relativistic speeds as she impacted her mother out of the way and whirled back around to smash through this new body of his. Their power reached new, unimaginable levels, but she didn't know if it would be enough. Forming bodies in moments and suddenly appearing in front of people seemed to be the strategy of choice for the desperate alien.

Scion materialized in time to take Taylor by the neck and his hand glowed. She punched and kicked but couldn't move his hand. The skin on her neck burned and she would've screamed if she could.

A boom that mother and daughter could feel halfway across the planet echoed in their ears. Scion's entire body jolted and convulsed, twisting like a distorted signal on a television. He dropped his target and various parts of his body began to collapse inward faster than he could regenerate. Annette used the opportunity to grab her daughter and portal their way across the planet.

Annette moved a great distance away as she saw her husband approaching. "That must've hurt," he said, flying up, pieces of magma dripping from his naked body. Taylor laughed.

"Fucker was _glitching_ ," she said, as he laughed along.

"We ain't done yet," Hancock replied, looking down.

The crust rumbled as geysers of lava shot up into the air. Burnt tissue collapsed and horrific smelling blood-like fluid poured and ignited. Taylor approached. "Dad, I've got an idea!" Her father cocked an eyebrow. "Let's make a screwdriver!"

A look of understanding appeared. "Or a drill bit!" he acknowledged.

She chuckled. "Yeah, you're right! Sorry. Anyway, we clasp hands and spin while we…"

Scion appeared, a look of abject fury on his face, concealing rage, expending enormous effort to keep his form intact. Taylor didn't have time to recoil as his hands connected with her head.

"TAYLOR!" Hancock shouted as he shot forward at lightning speed.

Taylor fell limp as her body refused to respond to her internal commands. She felt her nerves go numb and then a massive shock travelled through her entire body. Her mind raced and then burned, thoughts firing a mile a second. She saw horrifying images of bizarre scenes she failed to describe to herself. Pain then shot through her entire form. A series of colors and lights flashed through her mental vision too fast to interpret, then her entire consciousness went blank.

Hancock smashed into Scion with such force that the body vaporized. He cradled the motionless body of his daughter. "What happened? Taylor!" He shouted.

Her hands twitched. She came to a moment later. Her awareness trickled back in, her blurry vision righting itself. Blinking, she levitated back to a flying position. She looked around with her heightened senses and squeezed her hands. "I'm…" She took a deep mental analysis of her body. "I'm fine." The last few minutes came to mind. "Nevermind. Let's go."

Hancock pondered the idea. He nodded. "Great. I can't think of nothing better."

Father and daughter stood back to back and clasped hands. They flew downwards towards the Earth, spinning at ever faster speeds. The crust pulverized as they punched through it. Fire and lightning eradicated tons of rock as they cut through the planet like a tunnel being bored. Thousands of miles of inner Earth passed by in seconds as they drilled clear through the planet. Geysers of magma became fountains as the entire planet rumbled. Escaping the other side, they drilled through again, puncturing in another spot. By the time ten minutes had passed, they'd turned the Earth into Swiss cheese.

Father, daughter, and mother watched from a great distance as the planet rumbled and quaked. Annette made a portal and the three of them escaped back to their Earth as this one's death throes began.

"Holy shit!" Taylor shouted. "We did it!"

Hancock took a deep breath and let it out. "No shit," he uttered.

A shower of sparks preceded a very deformed Scion appearing right in front of them. "This motherf…" Taylor shouted.

Scion bore a look of calm understanding. A smile appeared on his face. Not a smile of horror, or one of vile cleverness was it either. It was a smile of success.

He simply nodded.

Then he popped out of existence as if someone had hit the delete key.

"Taylor," Annette said, "he's dead, right? We won? I thought we followed the steps."

"Excuse me," Hancock interjected, "but what in the hell are you talking about? The fuck just happened?"

Taylor looked downward. "We won alright," she said. She looked up in dawning realization. "And…so did he." She slapped her head. "My god, _that's_ what he did!"

"Explain," Hancock said. "Goddammit, what happened?"

His daughter turned to him. "What was his race's goal? To survive the end of the universe, or possibly, avert it. He must have learned something from fighting us that gave him exactly what they wanted!"

"What does that do?" Annette argued. "It's gone."

"No it's not," Taylor said. "Remember my power from the vial? I got it the moment he collided with me."

Hancock looked confused, but then his eyes went wide. "No! It's too risky!"

"Dad," Taylor said, "think of how you came back. I bet it's that I got mom to create a time portal, and I got you right after you hit the water when the Endbringers killed you." She smiled. "It's the only thing I could imagine. The gods aren't going to intervene."

Hancock folded his arms. " _One_ of Taylor grabbed me and I wake up with a hole in my chest, soaking wet, and you touch my head, and then send me through a series of portals." He blinked. "It's a hell of an experience. Didn't even know I could heal from that."

Taylor turned to her mother. "Except, _this_ time," she said, "we know that history can be changed. We can change what happens. We can tie the whole thing up."

Annette cleared her throat. "The risk is enormous," she said. "We already know you succeeded at saving your dad, but if you change anything else, since history changes, what about time paradoxes? Won't the thing Scion learned just be lost?"

Taylor shook her head. "I don't know if we'll ever know how time travel works," she answered. "But know for a fact that we've altered the plan at least a hundred times or more and we're still here. I think the…data? Whatever it is, there has to be a 'we' somewhere."

The idea started to click. "Sort of like how we've already done this a bunch of times," Annette replied, "and nobody's disappeared before our eyes."

"Right," Hancock said. "So, if we can alter history, then maybe things'll be better."

Annette swallowed her fear. "Just remember, _this_ time, there's no turning back."

"No turning back," Taylor echoed, closing her eyes to think. Now there were no take-backs. She wouldn't be given a second chance. This was _it_. She would never see _this_ version of her parents again. Now she would have to succeed. There was no "or else" to be thought of. She would have to relive several years of her life. She steeled her resolve and made her mind. She wiped away a tear. "I just want you to know how much I love you both and want you to know I learned the best of what you two taught me."

Hancock hugged his daughter tight. "Look, honey," he said, "I don't know how this works." A tear formed in his eye. "I don't know if this timeline'll persist or not, or if we'll be folded into the background as 'information' or whatever, but no matter what, I want you to know how much we love you."

Taylor squeezed tighter. She slammed her eyes shut to block out the tears. "Dad, mom," she said, "you two have been saving the world for centuries." She looked at them, a serious expression on her face. "I _will_ make this better."

Annette focused Doormaker's power. It took a tremendous amount of effort, but channeling her power through the shard in his mind eventually allowed her to see across time into the past. Through the portal, the morning of the event quickly started moving past, with half-hours passing in moments. She saw the moment coming up where Simurgh would attack her and both her and her husband would die. "Not too much longer now," she told her daughter, "and I'll be right on the spot."

Taylor shot through the portal at the moment it appeared on Brockton Bay and the Simurgh emerging from the fog. Hancock and Annette didn't have time to react; by the time their hands were outstretched, their daughter had gone through.

"Goddammit," Hancock swore. "I don't like this! We gotta go get her back!"

Annette let out a sharp breath. "No!" She shouted. She turned to her husband. "No. Like it or not, this is her battle now." She smiled. "Better or worse, we have to trust her." She let the portal shut.

* * *

Several miles off the coast of Brockton Bay, Simurgh emerged from the water. Within moments of arriving, she unleashed a psychic attack on a very specific individual. In a familiar house, a horrifying mental image shot through the mind of Annette Hebert like a sniper's bullet. She saw her husband skewered between the two Endbringers, Simurgh and Behemoth. The house jolted as she nearly tore through the door itself on her way out to fight the monster. "NO!" Her singular shout got lost in the rattling of air as she rocketed out to the bay.

Off to the side, the Endbringer hovered, watching her work as the immortal woman fought nothing except air. Everything had transpired exactly as it should.

Then something collided with her at such a speed that her body exploded into bits, leaving only her undamaged core behind.

Annette swung at air when a pair of hands grabbed the side of her head. The illusion collapsed at once and a torrent of memories shot through her mind. After it ended, she blinked several times and stared. A young woman with a striking resemblance to her hovered in front of her. Her hair was darker and her complexion a little less rounded, but there could be no doubt.

"T…Taylor?" Annette uttered. Tears flowed from her eyes freely. She moved in for a hug.

Taylor stopped her. "No, no time," she corrected. She almost paused to laugh at the inadvertent pun. "You won't have the shard power here and I'm going to need all the help I can get." She took in a deep breath. "I can stop Scion. _We_ can put an end to all this. Help me save the world."

Annette wiped her eyes. "Alright, honey." She turned to the core of Simurgh, rapidly regenerating. "It's your show. What do I do next?"

"Endbringer-icide, part deux," Taylor said.

The two rocketed off and smashed into the core of Simurgh knocking it high into the stratosphere. Combining their gifts, they kept breaking off any parts that had regenerated. Flying into it again and again launched it high above the Earth, halfway between the planet and the Moon. They both grasped a hold of the core and drew both fists back.

On the surface, Hancock was engaged in a brutal combat to the death with Behemoth. The monster struck and his opponent struck back. All at once, the entire sky lit up with a second sun. Everyone involved, including the Endbringer, turned to look. The monster let out a roar like never before and the ground quaked and the air lit up with electrical static. The heroes saw the light die down and a comet-like streak on fire tore through the sky. It collided with Behemoth and the monster vanished from before Hancock and trailed off into the sky.

Behemoth exited Earth orbit and Annette pressed the attack as Taylor carried the creature, resisting its kinetic attacks and attempts at redirecting the energy. The mother and daughter assaulted the beast from two sides, tearing through its flesh with ease. The core cracked under the force of their titanic blows. The last punch lit up the sky once again.

The Triumverate stared at the scene that unfurled before them. The immortal woman, Annette Hebert, landed a safe distance away from her husband, in the crowd, approaching them. A young girl, flew up to Hancock and touched her hands to the side of his head. A moment passed between them, and then they embraced.

The girl then approached Alexandria.

The decorated hero of the P.R.T. stared in confusion. "What the hell?"

Taylor folded her arms. "My mother and I just killed the two most powerful Endbringers," she said. "Now get Doormaker to give us a door to where Scion is."

She started as if shocked by a cattle prod. "What…?"

Taylor grabbed her by the collar of her uniform. "I ain't got time for this shit," she stated. "Now."

* * *

Taylor and her mother sat in a chair in Cauldron headquarters opposite Doctor Mother, Contessa, and the complete Triumverate.

"Let me get this straight," Contessa said.

"No," Taylor said. "I've told you what's relevant. I'm not telling you everything. All you need to know is, I can stop Scion."

Doctor Mother folded her arms. "So, in the…" she struggled to believe the words were escaping her mouth, "… _future_ …your family defeated Scion and his dying act was to leave you with the secret he figured out."

"I saw it in my mind," Taylor said. "And it's everything you wanted. I've already done this once." She shrugged. "Hey, if I'm wrong, I already know we can do this again."

"You won't believe the shit you guys did to me _last time_ ," Annette chimed in.

Contessa and Doctor Mother exchanged glances. Doctor shrugged. "Alright," she said. "I suppose we don't have any other choice. Contessa, get Doormaker to send them to Scion."

Contessa stood up. "I only hope you two know what you're doing," she said to them as she left the room.

The golden man hovered over Africa after having dealt with the aftermath of an Earthquake. A hole in space opened near him and two women emerged, one older than the other. One of them possessed a shard. He studied it curiously. He stretched his hands out to prevent her from touching him, but she made contact before he could do anything.

A memory of his once future demise flashed through his alien mind. He saw the titanic battle unfold many times over, and in the last iteration, where they succeeded in killing him, he had spent his last moments processing an enormous amount of information from every experience he had. At one fateful moment, almost too late, he figured out the biggest secret of his life, or of the lives of any of his kind.

The images Taylor's mind hadn't fully grasped were like open books to him. He saw everything any of his kind had ever wanted to know. It was as clear as day. The entire reason they'd begun the cycle at all now played out in pictures in his mind.

His expression softened and shock painted itself over his face. He had the answer his kind had spent countless tens of thousands of years attempting to figure out. He'd figured out how to stop the end of the universe. And now, his former enemy had given it to him.

Taylor's hands left the sides of the alien's head. He stared at his hands, confused as to what he should do. Finally his arms hung limp at his side. He stared at the woman in front of him. She eyed him warily. He couldn't blame her; they both knew there would be no victory for him if they fought.

He stared.

Incredibly, he spoke.

"What do you want?" he said. But he knew. In a sense, he knew.

"Take the shards away from a few specific people I'll tell you about," Taylor explained, "leave the Earth, and make sure neither you nor any of your kind threaten the human race ever again." She touched his head and showed him specifically what she had in mind.

Scion pondered this turn of events. His life had been devoid of purpose since the loss of his partner. Without his fellow entity, the cycle could not continue. Now, however, this human had shown him the answer _he_ had arrived at. The combat he saw himself engaged in intrigued him like nothing else before. Never before had he fought a being quite as powerful as these three. Yet, the prospect of a momentary diversion from his long boredom and miserable purposelessness paled in comparison to what could transpire now. With _the_ answer at his disposal, his race could collaborate in ways never before imagined. Putting his inhuman intellect to the test proved almost irrelevant; even _imagining_ the path from here only made him more excited. Compared to the possibilities that lay before him, this meager cycle, this human race and their request for peace seemed an impossibly simple bargain.

He simply nodded. A moment later, he took to the sky. Taylor closed her eyes and steadied her breath, calming her heart rate. She resisted the urge to scream. They landed in an open plane, and she hugged both of them, flying between them. "Did...did we fucking do it?" Hancock asked, wiping his brow.

Annette let out a held breath. "I hope so."

A portal opened near them. Alexandria stormed out, flanking Doctor Mother and Contessa. She folded her arms. Contessa looked frantic. Doctor Mother barely concealed her rage. "What the hell did you do?" Contessa asked.

"We," Hancock turned to his daughter, who shrugged, then back to the woman. "We saved the world?" He waited to see if her expression changed. "Maybe?"

"We saw Scion's true body explode the Earth it was on and ride the explosion into space," Doctor Mother explained, "and it seems he's gone. But Contessa's and Eidolon's powers are gone. What in THE HELL _DID YOU DO?"_ She sputtered as her sudden outburst broke the ice.

Taylor grinned. "When he left, he took some of the worst shards with him," she said. "My idea."

Doctor Mother approached Taylor. "Do you have _any idea_ how useful and important her ability is?"

"Very useful," Taylor responded. She cocked her head. "Why do you think I wanted it gone?"

"You have _no idea_ how much you've just endangered the Earth!"

Taylor folded her arms and stepped back. "Look," she said. "I know very well your organization has gone to great lengths to stop Scion. You pulled no punches and there was no low to which you wouldn't stoop. So, from now on, one of two things is going to happen. Either you're going to spend the rest of your lives making the world a better place, or we're _never_ going to hear from you again. I'm even going to be nice enough to give _you_ the choice in the matter."

Alexandria led Contessa back through the portal. Doctor Mother backpedaled towards the door. She had words, but given that the trio in front of her had saved the world, she didn't say them. The portal shut.

Hancock kissed his daughter on the forehead. "Damn," he uttered. "I still don't know what the hell's going on." He wiped his face with his hands. "Did all that really just happen?"

"Yeah," Taylor said. "Let me tell you, it's been a crazy couple of days."

Annette rubbed her forehead against Taylor's. "You did it! I'm so proud!" she shouted. "Holy crap, what happens next?"

Taylor thought about it. "I...I don't know," she uttered. A wide smile appeared. "For once...I don't know." She looked into her mother's eyes. "And that makes me happy."

"You don't think it's over for _good_ ," Hancock thought out loud, "do you?"

"No," Taylor replied, "but I think we're clever enough to handle whatever comes next, _together._ We can figure it out."

"We can worry about eternity later," Annette said. "Let's get down to the business of living now."

"Before we do that," Taylor said, "there's one last thing I have to do."

Annette looked confused. "What's that?"

"I have to close the circle." She closed her eyes. "I have to bond with my previous self. I don't think there should be two of me in one timeline."

Hancock saluted. "See you this evening," he said.

"Wouldn't miss it," Taylor replied. "Be careful where you pick to hang out, I'll be little again."

"Gotcha," he said, then flew off.

Taylor and her mother held each other's hands. "Let's go home," Taylor said.

Annette sighed. "Great idea," she replied. She realized something. "What about Leviathan?"

Taylor shrugged. "He'll show up, and we'll deal with him."

They headed home.

"Right now," Annette said, "I want to get some sleep."


	13. Final Chapter

Author's Note: Sorry this finale chapter took so long to write. I'm working on one of several manuscripts for my second novel and I had to get my author page up, and I couldn't come back to this for fear of my well of inspiration for my own work running dry. I did, however, find a nice break point where I could come back to this and write. So, good or bad, I actually finished it.

* * *

 **Final Chapter**

In a house on the outskirts of Brockton Bay, Taylor Hebert and her family enjoyed a nice evening meal. The girl herself saw her mother and adoptive father happily enjoying their steak fillet, and she couldn't help but smile. The previous timeline had been so chaotic that she hadn't had time to really relax. What with Cauldron doing…well, whatever the hell they wanted, and the constant threat of Scion as well as a motley crew of evil parahumans mucking up the place, her battles came fast and near constant. Now, though, she had a chance to take it easy.

"Taylor, honey," Annette said, "you're going to spend the next few days with your other dad, right?"

She thought of the latest chance to go out on heroics with her biological father. Hancock kept his distance to keep his other half powered but would share time with his daughter so they could bond. Their escapades often caught the ire of various foreign parahuman organizations, and occasionally appeared on the news, but Annette accepted it as just her former partner's way of parenting. Danny found it difficult at first, but his daughter always came back to him, and she always respected his rule of no smoking or drinking while out with Hancock. "Right," Taylor replied. "After dinner, we're meeting up to cover the greater New York area."

Danny remembered something. "Hey, kiddo," he said, "does the New York P.R.T. know about this?"

Taylor looked rapidly back and forth. "Y…yes?" She said. Annette gave her a look. "Hey, don't blame me! I asked other dad to take care of it!"

"Well, let's hope he's on top of things," Annette said, taking a bite.

"Look at it this way," Danny said. "Taylor hangs out with him every few weeks for years now. If he's a bad influence it hasn't happened yet."

Taylor wolfed down her remaining steak and washed it down with cherry cola. Her mother shot her a look and she made sure to wash her plate off before putting it in the dish pile. Danny met her at the staircase and hugged her. She told him she loved him and went upstairs to change. The outfit, bulletproof material designed to look like leather, consisted of a two-piece dark blue pants and jacket over a black shirt, and armored boots, made her laugh, but it was ridiculous enough that she had to wear it as soon as she saw it. She headed downstairs as soon as she laced up. She had accepted Hancock's advice to wear glasses with P.R.T. on-screen tech in them. She believed that it gave her family a monthly check of some kind from the Protectorate but had no evidence to back it up.

She opened the front door. A smile drew itself across her face. "Father!" she cried.

Hancock returned her embrace. "Yo!" he announced, leaning into it. Annette went upstairs to maintain safe distance. He looked up from the hug. "Hey, Danny."

Danny Hebert reacted with a "who, me?" expression. A look of concern replaced it a moment later.

"Thanks for sharing this amazing girl with me," Hancock said.

Danny's concern evaporated and a grin appeared. "Thanks, John." He stifled a tear. "That…actually means a lot to me."

"See you on Monday!" Taylor announced.

"She'll be fed and rested and at school at eight A.M. sharp," Hancock reassured.

"She will," Annette yelled from upstairs.

Hancock looked in her general direction. "One. Time." He said. " _One. Time._ "

They all laughed. "Later!" Taylor cried. She flew away with Hancock.

The two of them were over New York airspace in less than five minutes. "Damn, girl!" Hancock said. "You're fast as hell!"

"I'm not a little girl anymore!" She tore off in a different direction, forcing him to speed up.

Her glasses blipped to life, and a display gave her a reading of the nearest crime requiring a serious response. She stopped. Hancock came close and stopped. "You're running the show this time," Hancock said. "So give me a spot to go to."

She cycled through the results with her eyes. "Ten streets down, that way," she said, pointing. "You can't miss it, there's a massive electrical field around the building."

He nodded. "Got it," he said, taking off.

She saw the lights peering up from the police barricade several streets over and took off. She landed behind a wall of police cars and concrete barriers blocking off an area where bullet holes riddled the pavement and spent shell casings were everywhere.

"It's her!" A police officer shouted. The crowd of officers turned.

"Team Hancock!" Another shouted.

She approached the man in charge. "Captain?" she said. "Situation?"

"There's a parahuman team in there," the police captain explained, "and they're trying to be recruited by one of the major villain groups in New York. They're trying to escape with some biotech equipment they believe has vital information on it. We don't know what kind of stuff they've got, but their powers are based on kinetics."

She pondered it. "I'll see what I can do," she said. "Stay back." With a burst, she launched up the short stairs and through the gunmen at the door. Three parahumans stood in the partially wrecked office holding various equipment.

"Who the hell are you?" One particularly buff looking parahuman wearing a wife beater and military cargo pants shouted. "Trying out for _Akira_?"

She raised her glasses off her eyes. "No," she replied, "but I'm about to reenact the soldier exploding scene with your face." She dashed straight at them, and a torrent of materiel shot at her. Various chunks of concrete from the stone beneath the floor as well as glass from windows sailed across the room at hundreds of miles per hour. She flew over them, dodging a shockwave from one of the others and landed behind them. Before any of them could respond, she grabbed one by the shoulder and launched him into a wall, knocking him out. The other two exuded fields that tried to knock her backwards, but she grabbed them and smashed their heads together.

She deposited them outside. "They're all yours," she said. "Get the P.R.T. to bring in some extra help. They won't be out for very long."

"Thanks! You're a huge help," the officer said.

"No problem," she said, taking off.

High above the city, her father joined her, his clothes possessing a few burn marks, but otherwise unmarred. "Looks like you got done before I did," he said. "Kicked their ass?"

"Geez," she countered, "you couldn't even call it that. They were just sad. Three morons trying to join the big time right after triggering."

"Why do these fuckers always have to go straight for joining some villain crew?" He asked. A laugh escaped.

Taylor laughed along with him. "Dunno." The display on her glasses blinked, and she saw an indicator showing a parahuman robbery in place. "I got this." She took off.

The five-star restaurant had a huge hole where the main window would be. "I told you," Taylor heard an elderly man say. "I got out of that a long time ago. I don't got what you want."

The seven-foot-tall man covered in scales and rocky protrusions snarled. "Look at me, old man," he said. "You can't lie to me."

"A _hem_ ," Taylor said.

They both looked at her.

"Oh _fuck_ ," the parahuman said.

Next thing he knew, he ricocheted off the pavement and impacted a delivery truck parked outside. He swung a clawed hand, but Taylor grabbed his palm and squeezed. He let out an angry roar. She looked him in the eye. "You've got an outstanding warrant, you know that?" She kicked him aside. Sirens could be heard in the distance. She strolled over to a nearby store, retrieved a length of chain, and wrapped his limbs up.

She returned to the sky. A long moment passed, and her father was back. "Sorry," he said. "some idiot tried to hijack a police van."

They both consulted their glasses. Local Protectorate had the remaining cases in the area. "Want to call it a night?"

Hancock nodded. "Damn, they're getting better at this."

She shrugged. "Well, not having Endbringers or Scion to worry about makes things a lot easier in some ways."

It was a short flight at hypersonic speeds to his house in rural Maine. He didn't mind the cold winters, and it had the sort of alone he enjoyed. With the help of the money they made as a team, it also meant he had a _real_ house and not several mobile homes stuck together. They walked through the front door and she took off her shoes and jacket in the front hallway. "Hey, Taylor, I brought a friend over for movie night," Hancock said.

"This place is amazing!" a familiar voice cried.

Taylor smiled. "Emma!" she hugged her friend. "It's been too long!"

Emma smiled back. "You are busy, after all," she said. "Have to save the world all over again, and all." She laughed. "You explained the time travel stuff to me, and I still don't get it."

"I _did it_ and it still confuses me to think about," Taylor replied.

Hancock reached onto a shelf and produced several different blu rays. "What's on the menu first?"

"I think we need to see the aliens possessing people one," Emma offered.

"That's a remake," Taylor said. "The original is better."

Emma flinched. "It was?"

"Oh god, seriously?" Taylor snatched one out of her father's hands. "In that case you're _definitely_ watching the original."

Hancock set the movie up. "Taylor wasn't even born yet when this movie came out," he said. "It's so cheesy you _have_ to see it."

As they sat on the couch, watching the horror film on the enormous television, Taylor couldn't help but marvel at the situation. She'd fought the worst horrors imaginable. Scion had been exceedingly powerful and his energy manipulation had hurt her in ways she hadn't experienced before or since. She'd watched her mother's funeral, and experienced sorrows barely comprehensible. Their family had been nearly torn apart, manipulated by Cauldron, and tested in ways she almost couldn't handle. Now, though, she had everything she wanted. Her family had been put back together, she had an actual father-daughter relationship with both sides, and things were manageable. If things got bad, they would handle it together.

"This is amazing," Emma said. "That is the fakest outfit ever."

"I _know_ , right?" Taylor replied. "It's the best thing ever. The remake is great as a serious film, but you can't beat seventies campiness."

"Anybody want snacks?" Hancock said.

"Bring on the chips," Taylor said.

"Absolutely!" Emma agreed.

They sat, watching, eager as the movie they'd seen a thousand times played out. The scares and horror always got them on edge, even knowing they were coming. "You know, I don't miss the chaos one bit," Taylor said. "Not having as many targets to punch isn't something I regret at all."

Emma smiled and shoveled chips into her mouth. "I know you told me about the time travel like forty times," she said, "but seriously, I never get tired of hearing it."

Taylor chuckled between bites. "I've made it sound so easy," she explained, "but honestly, I've never felt so much pain my life. Scion was, easily, the most powerful being we've ever fought. He almost won against my mom, dad, _and_ me."

"Geez," Emma replied. "And you guys are, like, so much more powerful than just about anyone."

"I know," Taylor replied. She corrected herself. "I mean, not to brag. It's really not something I brag about."

"I do," Hancock interjected.

"I get it," Emma said.

They finished one bag of chips and began on another. "Hey, Tay," Hancock said, "why don't we get the suit and you can take Emma flying."

Emma perked up. "Really? No fooling?"

"No fooling," Taylor said. "As long as you're not tired of it."

"Are you kidding?" She almost jumped off the couch. "It's always a rush."

"Alright," Taylor agreed. "We'll do a few trips."

They returned to the movie. Taylor recalled the events since she returned to the past. The hard part had been reliving years of her childhood. The advantage was, though, it gave her a chance to correct some wrongs before they ever happened. Charlotte never had to join the Undersiders. The group itself, had a chance to avoid serving Coil, who never had a chance to capture anyone and imprison them. Sophia's sociopathy was put in check as the P.R.T. got evidence of her behavior. Possibly the only cause for serious concern she felt was Cauldron, but they hadn't been heard from. Both her parents and she believed that there would be a problem, that they would start something, but without Contessa, the impact was lessened.

"Did you guys ever take out Leviathan?" Emma asked. "I know you talked about that."

"We did," Taylor explained. "It wasn't a difficult battle after everything we've faced."

"And," Hancock added, "with Eidolon depowered, I doubt we're ever going to see one of those bastards again. But if we do, we'll handle it."

A question crossed Emma's mind. "So, you guys live basically forever, right?"

Taylor looked at her for a second. "Yeah," she said. "But let's worry about that later. We've got bigger fish to fry." The movie came to an end and they gathered the trash and bagged it up. They gathered the movies and food and put everything back in its proper place. Hancock went in the storage closet and opened a four-foot by four-foot metal cube.

"This," Hancock said, pulling a multi-colored bodysuit out of the container, "is the only reason why Cauldron hasn't come for this thing."

"Explain it to me again," Emma said, smiling. "I love this."

"Only myself, or my parents can open it," Taylor said. "The cube has our power flowing through it, and anyone else tries to open it, they die instantly." She made a poof gesture with her hands. "Instantly."

"If _that_ wasn't secure enough," Hancock added, "the suit is powerless without us channeling our power through it."

Emma regarded the suit. "How'd you guys _make_ it?" She poked it several times.

"Kidwin helped us make it," Taylor said, "along with Armsmaster and a few others." She grinned. "Then we wiped their memory of them doing it."

Emma cocked her head. "How?"

Hancock shrugged. "Probably best not to ask," he said.

"Okay now," Taylor said, handing it to Emma, "go put this on."

Emma dashed into the bathroom, stripped her clothes off and donned the suit. Its multi-colored bands twisted and turned as the materials in the suit calibrated to her body. She emerged into the living room with her arms outstretched. "What do you think?"

Taylor and her father put their hands on her shoulders. "Alright, Tay, look at me," Hancock said, "we have to be careful. We have to combine our Gifts with her in such a way that it doesn't activate our weakness."

"Right," Taylor agreed.

Her father nodded. On his cue, they closed their eyes and focused. Hancock donating a piece of his gift along with Taylor pushing some of hers into the suit, the bands changed to an interchanging pattern of dark blue and dark green. Emma felt a series of pinpricks all up her body, from her feet to her head. It was a sensation she'd felt before, but each time reminded her of just how amazing these people she called her friends were.

A brilliant pulse of light travelled through the house. Emma levitated above the ground, testing out her temporary power. "This is amazing!"

"Get dressed and we'll be on our way," Taylor advised. She put on her hero outfit and headed out the door.

Emma got her hero costume on and stepped outside. Taylor gave her a thumbs-up. "Hey, I figured an outfit like this would be low-key," Emma said.

Taylor floated up. "Okay, let's go!" She took off at a few hundred miles per hour.

Emma caught up soon enough. The wind blowing against her face as she blew past the countryside gave her a thrill like no other. As they made their way into supersonic speed, they crossed the Rocky Mountains and soon were over the ocean. They descended to just over the water and felt the spray. "Taylor, this is great!" Emma shouted.

"Isn't it?" Taylor cried.

"Do you think I can test out my strength in the suit?" Emma asked.

Taylor stopped in midair. "You know what? Why don't we!" She grinned as she headed back to land.

Emma took off in pursuit and the two of them were over the New Mexico desert in no time. They found plenty of huge rocks not attached to any rock formations. "Throw them at me!" she said.

Taylor picked up a boulder no less than four feet in diameter, flew up about ten feet, and hurled it at her friend. Emma tightened her fist and drew it back. Her heart raced. She closed her eyes for just a moment. Two feet from her, Emma stepped forward, thrust her right hand out, smashing deep into the rock. Instantly, it exploded into a thousand chunks.

"Woohoo!" Emma shouted, pumping her arms in the air. She shadow-boxed the air. "This is incredible!"

"Isn't it?" Taylor said. "Pretty soon, you'll be able to actually fight alongside us!"

Emma picked up another huge rock and started tossing it up and down. "I mean, we've shown that the suit is protected," Emma noticed, "so why me? Why not your other dad?"

"Well," Taylor said, chuckling, "we _probably will_ , but this wasn't easy to make, and the material wasn't easy to acquire. So, what we figured was, we made this one with what we had, we'll track down more materials, and then we'll make one for him."

Emma held the boulder kick, dropped it, and punted it several miles. "Where are you going to get more materials from?"

Taylor pointed upward. "Space," she said.

Emma gasped. "No freakin' way!"

Taylor nodded. "Humanity can go into space now," she said. "Our little excursions of you getting used to the suit was for more than just our little get togethers, although," she couldn't help but smile, "they _are_ the most fun I've had in years."

Emma's hands went to her mouth. " _I'm_ going into space?"

"The suit should make you immune to needing to breathe," Taylor explained, "and we're going to have to help move the Space Program back into the future. Asteroid mining will give us all the materials we need for the foreseeable future."

Emma shot her a grin, then took off like a rocket upwards. Taylor chuckled and pursued. In less than thirty seconds, they had cut through the stratosphere and were in actual space, looking down on the Earth. Taylor noticed Emma's shocked expression. They shared a soundless laugh. Taylor was used to the feeling of having air sucked out of the lungs, and her friend wasn't. She didn't look too bothered by it after the shock wore off, though. They flew around for a while.

Taylor shot down into the atmosphere and then Emma followed. The suit held up to reentry perfectly, and her clothes over it were almost perfectly protected, only a few scorch marks appearing. They landed somewhere between Oklahoma and Missouri.

"So," Emma asked, "asteroid mining?"

"Yeah," Taylor said. "Earth formed out of the accretion disk that formed the solar system. All the heavy elements would have sunk to the core of the Earth. So," she pointed up, "asteroid belt, up between Mars and Jupiter, consists of planets that didn't form fully into planets, went boom. Pieces of planet core that would have plenty of all those heavy elements."

Emma pointed. "That's right!" She thought about it. "We carry the huge chunks into orbit near the Earth and the people come up in ships and mine the thing."

Taylor nodded. "And then we take the useless crap outside the orbit," she finished.

"That's a great plan," Emma replied. "Hey, do you think that 'Cauldron' group will try and interfere?"

"Honestly," Taylor replied, "I'm not concerned. You see, if they come, we'll fight them together. If they're smart, they'll find something more constructive to do with their talents." She coughed out a chuckle. "And honestly, they wouldn't have taken out Scion without us. I think they owe us a favor."

Emma shook her head. "We'll take this on together," she said.

They shared another hug. "Let's go home," Taylor said.

Flying back to Hancock's house, they got the suit back into its protective case. They shared another series of laughs before washing up and heading up to their rooms. Hancock went to bed and the two of them stayed up playing video games on the computer. After a few hours, they headed to their separate bedrooms to sleep. "Goodnight," Emma said. "Future's looking up."

"You know what?" Taylor said. "It is."

* * *

Annette and Danny sat on the front porch, staring at the moon and stars. They sat in each other's embrace. "You know what amazes me?" Danny said.

Annette craned her head to look at him. "What?"

Danny let out a short sigh. "Taylor said, in the other time," he explained, "we had to live without you." He held her tighter. "I can't imagine what that's like."

"It still seems crazy to me," Annette said, "and she showed it to me."

Danny placed a kiss on her forehead. "I'm just so glad we've got each other," he said. "I don't know what happens next, but I'm glad for every minute we've got."

"I love you," Annette said.

"I love you," Danny replied.

As the cool evening breeze blew by, a shadow passed in front of the moon. Annette rose out of the seat. She looked ahead, and recognized the figure descending from the sky.

"Sorry to drop in this time of night," Alexandria said. She read Annette's face. "Don't worry, I'm not here to start something."

Annette gave a skeptical glance. "Alright, what is it?"

"I've got something to give you," Alexandria replied. She handed a file folder.

Annette flipped through it. "You're kidding!"

The superheroine shook her head. "No, I wish," she said. "This is official as of an hour ago."

"What?" Danny perked up.

Annette looked at him, confused. "Someone…got ahold of several databases from Cauldron," she explained. "It's been leaked to the press."

"Congress convened an emergency session to officially disband the Protectorate," Alexandria explained. "The president flew in to sign it. As of right now, nonpartisan panels are being put together to suggest the path forward from here."

Annette handed the pamphlet back to Alexandria. "But…how? Cauldron was so good about keeping their dimension secret!"

"I wish I knew," Alexandria said. "All I know is, as of nine A.M. Monday morning, You, me, and dozens of others who've worked with the Protectorate in the past are to appear before this new agency."

Annette shrugged. "Well, see you there." Alexandria flew off.

"Wow," Danny said. "How the hell did _they_ get their data leaked?"

"What bothers me is," she said, "why _now?_ "

A piece of paper appeared before her on the ground. She picked it up, unfolded it, and almost fell backward in her chair. Hastily, she looked up. Danny whipped his head around. "What's wrong?"

She showed him the paper. It had two words, "Thank you all," written in big blocky letters.

In _gold_ ink.

Above, she saw only a single point of light, fading rapidly into the distant evening sky. Within less than a second, it vanished beyond her ability to see.

Danny stared at the paper. "Should we be worried?"

"He wrote 'thank you all' and then immediately fucked off," she said. "Can I be worried in the morning?"

He chuckled. "I guess after everything, I'll say amen to that."


End file.
